Bargain
by sunder8000
Summary: The First Order has reached every corner of the Galaxy. The Resistance has all but fallen. Rey has been captured by the First Order and receives a rather intriguing visitor. [Beauty & the Beast inspired. Reylo.]
1. Chapter 1

Summary

AU. The First Order has reached every corner of the Galaxy. The Resistance has all but fallen - General Organa is deep in hiding; Luke Skywalker has been tracked and killed by the First Order. Finn and Poe are missing, presumed dead. Rey has been captured by the First Order and receives a rather intriguing visitor.

Author's Note:Just a little idea! Enjoy! PS I am new to the Star Wars fandom, so don't come at me with pitchforks if the details aren't perfect!

Chapter One

The only thing that he recognizes is her hair.

The same style as so many years ago, when they fought on Starkiller; the three buns, pulled tightly to reveal her striking face. The face that looked at him with such hatred.

 _You're a monster._

Other than that, she is unrecognizable.

He steps in front of her cell, silently, watching. She either does not notice him or does not care. Either way, she makes no movement at his presence. His eyes glaze over her form, curled as tightly as possible into herself in the corner of the room. Her face is hidden, tucked down. She looks thin - unhealthily so. Growing up in such harsh conditions, he's always assumed she's been thin, but strong - now she just seems weak. Her arms are near skeletal, and her clothes - rags, really - hang off of her aching frame. She looks like she hasn't eaten in weeks. Months. Her once-tan skin has become deathly pale, no doubt from years of hiding and now weeks in this windowless cell, away from any possible sunlight.

The troopers say she hasn't said a single word since she's arrived. Hardly touched her food. Barely slept. Just sits there, in a catatonic state, making no movements.

Something slides in his chest, uncomfortably.

He whispers, so quietly he is sure she can't hear it.

"Rey."

II.

No, not him. Anyone but him.

I spend a few precious seconds debating whether or not to answer that grating voice. For four years I've been avoiding him, in every sense of reality. Fleeing from planet to planet with Master Luke. Pushing him out of my head. Screaming myself awake from the nightmares he plants.

And despite every effort, here he is, the Master of the Knights of Ren. The murderer of Han Solo, the son General Leia is convinced can still be saved, the man who has near single-handedly destroyed the entire galaxy.

Saying my name.

"Rey," he repeats, louder, more demanding. I can tell from the mechanical tone that he is wearing his mask. Slowly, I dare to bring my head up.

 _It's just us now._

Oh yes, Lord Ren, you went to every effort to ensure it would be _just us_. Ruthlessly slaughtering every person I've ever cared for until you're the only thing I can see. And I hate you for it.

My eyes meet his mask as I turn to face him, though I remain in my crouched position. I slide my arms uneasily to my sides, my hands resting on the cold metal floor of the cell. I force myself to breathe.

One, two, three seconds.

"Why - " I pause my question, surprised at the sound of my voice. It sounds rusty, wrong, after weeks of disuse. I clear my throat and raise my chin. "Why are you keeping me here?" The question that has been on my mind since my ship was intercepted; since they murdered my co-pilot and took me hostage.

 _You need a teacher._

That moment on Starkiller flashes in my mind, whether of my own volition or his, I cannot tell. Ren, unmasked, disheveled, his hair plastered to his face while his eyes shine with a brightness I would never expect from a would-be sith. Pleading with me to come to him, to let him show me the ways of the Force. I slam down my mental walls, blocking the image. None of that matters now. I repeat my question. "Why are you keeping me here?"

The monster's only response is to tilt his head to one side. I feel my blood begin to race with fury. I stand up as quickly as I can and, with as much dignity as I can muster, walk to the cell bars. Directly in front of him.

"Answer me." My voice trembles, but whether it is from fear or anger, I am not sure. Probably both. I try to remember Master Luke's teachings - stay calm, control your emotions - but I bitterly think of where that led him. I will be strong.

My fingers curl around the bars and he is inches away from me. "Answer me," I repeat. "Tell me why I am still alive. You've won your war. Why am I still here?" The questions on my mind tumble out quickly, and part of my wishes to scoop them up and hide them from him, pretend he never heard them. Too late.

His answer, devoid of all emotion through that horrific mask, sends shivers down my aching spine.

"You know why."

III.

It is a relief to see that she is not completely broken.

Some of her fire remains; that much is evident from how tightly she curls her fingers around the cell bars, how she stares at him with such obvious disgust.

"I will never join you." An answer given through gritted teeth.

"We'll see."

"You'll have to kill me first!" She pushes back from the bars, crouched, as if awaiting the killing blow at that moment. He chuckles.

"I have no intentions of killing you, Rey. You are far too valuable to me."

He sees the faint fire in her eyes flicker until it is gone, drowned out by the truth she is now just beginning to understand. Lord Ren intends to keep her here with him.

Forever.

IV.

I hear him speaking to me but none of it registers. There is a roaring in my ears as I realize I wasn't brought here to die, like my comrades.

No, I was brought here to be broken.

I imagine a thousand different ways that could happen and have to convince myself not to dwell on them. I've lived a thousand lives already, with all I've endured. This would not be my downfall.

While I manage to calm my breathing, clutching my chest as if to manually slow my rapidly beating heart, a part of my mind registers that the door is silently sliding open. The monster is entering, coming closer to me.

To break me.

I takes every effort I have to send my tray of uneaten food zooming toward him, hoping for the element of surprise by using the Force. I can tell from his posture that all this idiotic move did was irritate him and drain me. I stumble backwards from the added exhaustion, hitting the wall behind me. Every ounce of strength, clarity, and willpower is overshadowed by my ever-mounting fatigue. Lack of food and sleep have finally caught up with me.

I breathe as carefully as I can, trying to maintain my angered expression as Ren stalks up to me, stopping less than a foot away. I feel the familiar sensation settle over me - he is holding me in place with the Force.

"Take off that blasted mask," I manage through shallow breaths. I echo the words of his father. "You don't need it." I hope this is as painful a reminder to him as it is to me.

Of course, he betrays no emotion.

 _Monster._

I hear the hiss of his mask as he removes it, keeping his eyes locked on me. He places it on my unused cot, still never turning away from me. I sense he has been waiting for this moment - this reunion - for a long time.

So have I, but I imagined it going much differently.

I swallow as he continues to advance, now stopping mere inches away. He places a gloved hand on either side of the wall, trapping me - as if I could move anyway. I remember being in a very similar situation with Poe not many months ago, but that was a welcome advancement - no. I will not think of Poe, or the way he smiled at me, warming me, or the chances with him that were never able to be. I will not think Finn. Or anyone else. My mind is vulnerable to Ren. I will not think of -

"I've missed you."

I hold back a laugh at the incredulity of it all. He _missed_ me? The most unstable, violent, sadistic man in the universe missed a desert rat - his most affectionate name for me in the many battles we've fought.

I fight to recoil as he plays with a strand of my hair. I do not know if it is meant as an affectionate gesture or as a sign of dominance. I meet his eyes, still unable to move.

"If that's true, then why the cell?"

"You couldn't be trusted."

"I still can't. Don't make the mistake of ever thinking I will come to the dark side."

He chuckles, seemingly still entranced with that lock of hair, twisting it around and around his gloved fingers as he moves ever closer. Our torsos are practically touching and I can smell the sweetness of his breath.

His eyes meet mine and I wait with baited breath for his response. Surely he will kill me if I continue to refuse? I find myself welcoming it at this point.

"Rey, I am less concerned with you joining the dark side than I am with you joining _my_ side."

My brow furrows for just a moment before I blank my face and slam down mental shields. This is the moment he has been waiting for. I can see it in his hitched breath, the hungry look in his eyes. I look down, avoiding his penetrating gaze as I digest his words. They don't make sense to me. The dark side? His side? He is one of the highest leaders of the First Order, second only to Snoke. How are these "sides" not one in the same? I don't understand what he could possibly -

It clicks.

I swallow bile down in my throat. I'm faintly aware that his hand has moved to the rest of my hair, unpinning my buns. The last thing about me that I still recognize. My hair tumbles to my waist and he eyes it longingly.

He wants every part of me.

I try my best to instill venom in my voice but it still comes out tired, broken. "What exactly is it that you want me to do, Lord Ren?" I don't know why I bother. We both know the answer.

He smiles as his lips dip to mine. My first kiss.

"Marry me."


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Thanks to all who have reviewed, followed, and favorited! It means a lot! This was originally going to be a oneshot but you have inspired me! I know this chapter is kind of slow but it will pick up! PS See if you can spot the reference :)

Chapter 2

I feel stiff, in a way I haven't felt since Jakku - the shell of the AT-AT keeping me safe only from dust storms, and little else. I always slept tensely, prepared for a raid or attack at any moment. I never failed to awake with sore muscles, already exhausted from the night and never prepared for the day's work. What a relief it was to train with Master Luke and know someone finally, finally had my back while I slept. For the first time in my memory, I could sleep peacefully.

Well, barring the nightmares planted by Ren.

My eyelids remain practically glued shut as I roll my shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension from the sorest part of my back. This simple motion alerts me to two things. My eyes fly open with the revelation.

One, I _am laying down_. I cannot remember the last time I slept horizontally, always prepared for an attack, even in sleep. This was an unnerving notion and I sat up immediately, reaching for a lightsaber that was no longer there.

Two, I am no longer in my cell. The surface beneath me is not the cold metallic floor of this blasted ship. No, I am laying on something soft, something that molded to my body while I rested. A bed. I have never slept in one, not on the cot in the cell, nor the temple with Luke - there we simply slept on bedrolls.

I roll my neck as I try to remember yesterday's events. He came to see me. Questioned me. Asked me if I would...marry him. I don't remember much else. Did he bring me here?

I hear a trickling sound, musical in its rhythm. I turn my head toward the wall to the left of me and find a - what did Luke call it? - _waterfall,_ cascading down the side. Where the water came from or disappeared to was beyond my comprehension. As was using water for decoration.

"I thought it would soothe you."

My head snaps immediately to my right, giving me a small case of whiplash. Ren - or _Kylo,_ as he insists I call him - is leaning on the doorframe, maskless, arms folded, smirking at me. The tousled hair, confident posture, knowing smile - they all remind me painfully of another Solo. How could he look so much like Han and turn out so differently?

I scramble off the bed as quickly as I can, untangling from covers and straightening my clothes. My hair still spills to my waist, tangled and stiff with sweat and tears.

"What would soothe me? The room? The water? Or your absence?"

His smirk widens.

"The water." He walks slowly into the room, his arms at his sides. "I know what a _rarity_ that is for you. What fond memories it must bring to you."

The ocean. The island. Master Luke. He is salting my wound.

I feel blood in my mouth as my teeth grind the inside of my cheek. He is provoking me but I will not give in. _Control your emotions. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering._

"Have you reached a decision?" He asks, while pouring himself a glass of water from a small table near the bed. I watch him drink it slowly, keeping his eyes on a point on the wall. I would give a thousand portions to know that water was poisoned. It would be well worth it.

"No," I say as coldly as I can muster.

"No, as in you haven't decided yet?"

"No, as in NO. I will not...marry you." I feel foolish even saying the words. What a preposterous idea. I would have laughed in his face yesterday when he first proposed, had it not been so close to mine. I can still taste his lips, surprisingly warm, gentle. Not at all what I expected. I shake these thoughts, disgusted with myself. I was exhausted, lonely, not thinking straight, and yearning for human affection - that was it. I close my eyes and breathe deeply through my nose, calming my racing thoughts. Nothing like that would ever happen again.

"What a pity," his reply is emotionless, his eyes barely grazing mine. He sets down the glass with a small clink on the table. I watch him as he wipes a small droplet from the corner of his mouth. Such a motion is foreign to me. On Jakku no water is ever wasted.

I keep my eyes level with his, not offering a response. The silence settles uncomfortably over us. He clears his throat.

"I suppose I will ask again tomorrow. Until then, scavenger."

In less than a moment he is gone, the door sliding shut behind him. I let out a breath and glance at the lavish room around me, sinking into a deep-cushioned chair. I realize I've simply moved from one prison to another.

II.

"And what of your pet?" Snoke's grating voice speaks over the hologram, his dead eyes boring into my brown ones.

I sigh. There is no use hiding anything from the Supreme Leader. "She resists me."

A disquieting chuckle escapes his twisted lips. "She has great reason to, given your previous encounters. But I do not doubt your ability to...persuade."

I never used to doubt it, either. Until a certain scavenger kept a simple map from me. I clench my teeth remembering the four year cat and mouse game I've played with the infuriating woman. She was an eel, always wriggling out of my grasp at the last moment, right when I was tasting my victory in finally capturing her.

But she is here now. She is mine. And I can finally taste the sweetness of her capture. Finally, my scavenger is defeated and ready to be molded into something more powerful than she can even begin to comprehend. Something inside me stirs at the thought of being there to witness her inevitable and incredible transformation. I cannot stop myself from imagining her in a black dress, her hair curling down her back as she holds a red saber in her hands. My dark Rey.

"Your thoughts betray you, Ren."

I shake my head and clear my mind immediately. "My apologies, my lord."

Another unnerving chuckle from the Supreme Leader. "You have chosen well. The children she bears will be more powerful than any previous Force users. The descendents of a Skywalker and Kenobi. They are destined for greatness," Snoke waves a hand dismissively. "She is yours, Ren. Tame her and bring her to the dark side. Whatever course of action that may require."

I nod quickly. "Consider it done, my lord."

The hologram disappears and I turn, heading toward the bridge. My mind is lost in thoughts of dark hair and hazel eyes.

III.

Three days pass. I have had no visitors beside the occasional trooper bringing a meal. One of them, who brings the last meal of the day, always hesitates a moment before dropping off the tray. I wonder if I make him anxious. At the end of the third day droids come in place of the nervous trooper. I question them immediately.

"Why are you here?"

The droids stare at me, and I swear if they could they would have rolled their eyes. "We are here on Master Ren's orders. To help make you presentable."

I seethe but don't resist. I am restless to get this dirt, blood, and sweat off of me. They lead me to a shower, just off the edge of my new room, and help me undress and wash the months of grime and pain away. I find my muscles relaxing from the heat of the water and the cool touch of the droids as they wash my hair, once, twice, four times. I breathe in the steam and relax as much as I am able. Despite the circumstances, it feels wonderful to be clean again.

Hours later I have been groomed like a horse. My hair is glossed; my nails rounded and polished; skin smothered in intoxicating oils. The droids help me slip into the palest of pink dresses, draped in the quietest silk that falls to the floor. The sleeves cover my upper arms but not my shoulders. This dress is soft. Comfortable. But not ideal for combat.

 _He's clever._

The droids pin half my hair back, leaving the rest to cascade down my back. I find my teeth clenched yet again as I am dressed up like a doll.

Once the finishing touches are made, I am left alone. I stretch, then punch a black chair twenty times in a row, switching hands halfway through. I clench my hands into fists and attempt to reel my emotions back in. I feel sick standing here, a plucked bird, waiting to be devoured.

The door slides open.

IV.

She is radiant.

The droids seemed to have worked a Force miracle on her; she is unrecognizable as the girl from the cell. My eyes quickly roam over her hair, pinned back; her dress, just hitting the floor; and slide back up to her intelligent eyes. Currently staring daggers at me.

I sigh.

"Rey."

I see her visibly flinch as her name escapes my lips. She recovers quickly, straightening her back and tilting her chin up. "Ren."

" _Kylo_ ," I remind her. "There should be no formalities between future spouses."

The rage flies into her eyes faster than I could have expected. She throws her hand up, sending a chair flying toward me. I block it easily with a wave of a few fingers.

"I will never, not in any millenia, agree to something as foul as marrying _you_. I want nothing more than to see you dead, _Kylo,"_ she spits angrily. Her breathing increases as her frame begins to shake with anger. "You've killed every one of my friends, every one of the Jedi. You are nothing more than a monster!"

"Monster is a relative term," I say, keeping my expression still. I gesture toward the door. "Come, have dinner with me."

My request is met with narrowed eyes.

"You are infuriatingly stubborn," I conclude. "Perhaps one day I will grow to love that."

"You know nothing of love," she snaps. "Only anger, rage, suffering. And I want nothing to do with it!"

"So you say," I speak quietly, assessing her. "But I'm not the one exuding those traits just now, am I? You are. Don't deny what you could become. _Should_ become."

She backs up, turns around, slows her breathing. I sense, more than see or hear, a tear drop hit the ground.

"I hate you," she whispers,

I sigh tiredly. "I know."

AN: More to come! Please leave a review, they help my motivation! Also, this is quite a slowburn. Rey is still super pissed off about everything Kylo's done. Thanks for your patience! :)


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Hello everyone! Thank you so so much for the reviews, favorites, and follows! Enjoy the new chapter!

Chapter 3

I. [Rey]

Three months pass.

The first month saw me attempting every possible escape. Using mind tricks on troopers; prying boards off of walls searching for wires to reprogram; even trying to wriggle through air vents. Each attempt became less successful than the last, and each ended with a masked Kylo Ren escorting me-sometimes dragging me-back to my room. Once did he lose his temper in front of me, igniting his lightsaber and destroying every piece of furniture in the room. His lack of control while maintaining a close proximity to me kept me from attempting anything else.

Instead I subjected myself to the idea that I would be here for an indefinite amount of time. An opportunity would eventually present itself, and until then, I would simply wait it out. At least here I never suffered from lack of food, water, or clothing. I occupied my time with meditation, sleep, and remembering lessons with Master Luke.

And so the second month passed.

The third month began with General Hux storming into my room, loudly proclaiming that I was a drain on their resources and if I was here I would earn my keep. My eyes widened only for a moment until he announced that I would be training with a squad of stormtroopers, effective immediately.

The third month saw me slowly come back to life. I was granted permission to walk freely about the northern wing of the destroyer. In the mornings I trained with the troopers; it was physically exhausting but mentally satisfying to be pushing my limits. The afternoons were spent in the archives (heavily supervised), learning more about the Republic and regrettably the Empire and First Order. I focused on weeding the propaganda from the facts, but always doubted my confidence. Still, some education was better than none, and any way I could be prepared, any sort of weakness I could find in these barbarians, was enough for me.

The evenings were always the same. The droids would come, help make me presentable for Ren. My hair would be attended, usually left down, and I would be helped (and on rare occasions even sewn) into some frivolous dress. Then I would be escorted to a small dining room where I would have an unbearable dinner with Ren. Making painfully awkward small talk, but usually not talking at all. I kept waiting for his absence - surely he would go on missions, leave the ship at some point - but when I asked, he explained, somewhat annoyed, that with the Resistance more or less destroyed, there was no need for him to leave.

Every night he proposed.

The question was only consistent in its variation. Sometimes it would read like awkward poetry, him flattering my every feature, before saying he wanted nothing more than to be my husband and admire me always. I hated this variation the most. Sometimes the proposal would cater to my power, and the potential we had to rule as Emperor and Empress of the Galaxy. Other times it would be nothing more than a command, much as it was that first night in my cell. "Marry me." "Be my companion." "Rule by my side." Even the desperate attempt, him nearly pulling out his own hair, about two months in, "Just give in Rey! I cannot take much more of this!"

"Oh yes," I snapped. I can see how this is an incredibly unbearable situation for _you_."

But most often, it was just a simple question, almost forgotten among the more dramatic proposals. "Rey, will you marry me?"

I always declined. He always sighed, looked away, nodded. Always promised to try again tomorrow.

I think that is the first promise he's ever kept to anyone.

II. [Rey]

"Kenobi! You're slacking! Do you understand how bad that makes me look?"

I grit my teeth and power through another set of pushups. The squadron has already completed three hundred, but Instructor Tannis is grueling today. He crouches next to me, one hand on his knee, as he again chastises my falling behind.

I swallow down the many excuses - I've been locked in one place or another for many months now, with no real place to exercise available. I'm out of practice, untrained. Weak.

But I won't always be.

I spare a quick glance at Tannis, his curly brown hair and glacial blue eyes boring into mine, silently pushing me to do one more, just one more. Go farther than what is expected of me.

Be more.

The whistle blows and I collapse onto the ground, muscles trembling from exertion. I hear the sounds of the other troopers, men and women alike, ranging from middle age to barely adolescent, clearing out. One thing is evident to me: the First Order is no respecter of troops. They'll corrupt just about anyone.

I feel my heart rate slow as the room empties. A hand grips my arm as another hand reaches out. I glance at it for just a moment before extending my own, accepting Tannis' help up. He lowers his head, just a touch, and offers a rare smile.

"You did well today."

I offer a shaky smile in return, wanting so desperately to trust him. He is the only one here who has offered any genuine kindness - at least, I _hope_ it's genuine.

He returns my smile warmly, and it isn't the first time that I notice how his entire countenance changes. The ice in his eyes melt to a warm ocean, and the dimples in his cheeks deepen.

"Here, I'll escort you to your quarters."

I nod my assent, wiping the sweat off my face as we exit the training room. For once my hair is pulled back in its usual three buns - training being the only time I'm allowed this privilege. We walk by dozens of troopers but no one acknowledges us. We must look an odd pair, a low level training instructor and Kylo Ren's would-be wife. Apparently, either his position or mine demands a certain amount of respect and so we travel without incident. Tannis and I walk in a comfortable silence and I gnaw at a question that has been on my mind for weeks.

"Sir," I begin, not sure exactly what to call him now that we are out of the training rooms and my position has risen from lowly soldier to potential Lady Ren. He looks to be at least a few years older than me - should I call him sir on that fact alone? I was never taught politeness on Jakku. Only survival. He offers a warm smile and I continue, encouraged, "What is - um, is...is...what is your first name?"

I feel beyond foolish, asking this man for something as personal as a first name. Doing so implies that I am seeking friendship with him, or at least a more comfortable level of intimacy than what we currently possess, which would be none.

It means I'm being vulnerable, in some small way, to a member of the First Order.

My heart flips, rather painfully.

We stop in front of my door, and I can sense him hesitating. There are no troopers present; Kylo Ren at least changed the command from guarding my door to patrolling the halls. We seem to have missed them.

"It's a rather long name," he finally replies. "An old family name. They were very important on my home planet." He eyes me, the smallest smile creeping, the dimples just beginning to deepen in his tan cheeks. "But I go by Patch."

I smile and repeat the name, liking the way it sounds but I can't help but raise an eyebrow to it. "Patch? Whatever for?"

He lifts up his curls on his left side and there, just above his ear, is a small section- _patch_ -of silver hair. Unusual. But I find myself liking it.

"So," I begin. "That's a nickname, then?"

"Yes, but only for friends. I suppose you're included on that list, Kenobi," he sighs dramatically.

I smile and turn toward the door, waiting for him to enter the code. I'm embarrassed that everyone on this stupid ship knows it except for me, though I shouldn't be surprised. I'm still a prisoner.

"Well, Patch," I begin, my heart feeling lighter than it has in months. "I'm sure I'll see you tomorrow."

The door slides open. He offers the slightest bow, just a dip of the head and shoulders. A sign of respect? "Yes, Rey, I'm sure you will."

My breath catches, just for a moment, as I realize that is the first time since we met many weeks ago that he has called me by my first name.

He turns to leave and I cannot stop myself from asking one more question.

"Patch, what is your home planet?"

He barely turns to look at me before answering cheekily. "That, my dear, is a question for another time."

III. [Kylo]

I stand, rigid, counting slowly to one hundred and back down again. This meeting with Hux has lasted twice as long as expected and I am itching to get back to Rey. She had training again today and I am curious as to how it went.

"The Resistance is on the move."

I blink slowly, trying to contain my anger at this idiot of a general. Of course the Resistance is on the move, that much is clear from the reports of them _changing locations._ I know I should be more concerned that they are not entirely eliminated, as we once thought. They are growing as stubbornly as weeds. But no matter. A small band of rebels cannot withstand the First Order, I am sure of it.

I tune Hux's ramblings of the Resistance out, choosing instead to focus on Rey. It troubles me how obsessive I've become. What began as a curiosity four years ago has grown to an insatiable need to know everything about her; what she's thinking; how she would handle things. Every time she declines my proposal makes me more motivated to have her as my wife. I keep myself from admitting her obvious hatred for me. What else is hatred but misguided passion?

Involuntarily a moment with my parents enters my mind.

" _Your father was a scoundrel, through and through. He was lucky I even chose to_ _ **talk**_ _to him, let alone marry him."_

" _Don't listen to your mother. She was crazy about me from the start."_

Persistence, that was what worked for my father-the scoundrel. Persistence is what would work for me, too. I clamp the memory down, burying it deep in my mind, before the pain becomes too great. Han Solo was nothing more than a -

"Ren, did you hear me?"

I snap back to attention, glancing at the hologram Hux has just pulled up. Five men, covered in dirt, torn clothes, dried blood on their faces. They are on their knees, with manacles on their wrists. Prisoners.

"Resistance fighters. Captured in the Outer Rim yesterday."

I squint through the mask, troubled that I don't recognize any of them. Is my mother recruiting under the First Order's nose? My blood begins to boil.

"How shall we execute them? Publicly?"

"No," I snap, my voice sharp through the mask. "I will take care of it."

IV. [Rey]

Tonight night I dress quickly, anxious to get my dinner with Kylo over. I'm still flying high from my first friendly encounter in who knows how long and I am loathe to let a marriage proposal ruin it. The droids help me into a simple baby blue gown, floor length with an open back. I bite my tongue to stop the complaining. This is one of the more tasteful dresses I've been expected to wear, and I don't want to use all my leverage on a dress that keeps most of me covered. My hair is fashioned into a simple braid that hangs over my right shoulder. It is not lost on me that my entire back is exposed. I stiffen.

The door slides open and I am surprised to find my nervous trooper holding a tray - I can see it shaking in his hands. What do I do to make this poor soldier so anxious? My mind shifts to a more pressing topic. Could I really be dining alone tonight? I dare not get my hopes up.

The voice of the trooper is muffled through the mask, as if he has a cold. "You'll be seeing Lord Ren in an hour, my Lady. Until then, he requests that you eat now. He sends his apologies."

I nod my understanding as the sick trooper shakily places the tray of food on my table. He lifts the cloth napkin and hands it to me. Perhaps this is a custom on his home planet - taking your napkin before anything else? Unsure, I accept it from his gloved hand, offering my thanks.

He hesitates just a moment before leaving. I examine the napkin more closely, sure that it is nothing but a bizarre custom but I cannot ignore the nagging feeling settling into my gut. I examine it carefully, running my hands over the edges. What is so special about this? It looks and feels the same as every other napkin I've ever used here.

Wait, I see it now. There, in the left hand corner, in the smallest, crudest stitching possible, is the letter "B."

V. [Rey]

Exactly one hour later troopers collect me and escort me to a new wing. I'm perplexed at the change but say nothing. The door slides open and I enter an office of sorts. There are bookshelves but no books; windows but no views; a desk but nothing is on it. The word "vacant" seems underwhelming for this room.

Kylo is sitting on a black sofa, in the middle of the room. He is already unmasked as he waves the troopers off. His eyes settle on me and I cannot help but notice the way his eyes linger on my dress.

"I've some business with you."

I bring up my mental shields, prepared for the worst. He looks aggravated but says nothing of it. Instead he motions to the sofa.

"Come, sit."

I oblige, my curiosity outweighing my dread for just a moment.

Kylo calls to a small droid I hadn't noticed in the corner. It wheels in front of us and Kylo presses a few buttons, but says nothing. He must want this to be a surprise. Immediately a hologram forms; though grainy I can still make out five men, bound with metallic contraptions, small trickles of blood from seemingly every body part. They are all human, all covered in dust, and all looked exhausted.

"They're Resistance fighters."

"How do you know?" I didn't recognize any of them and was loathe to doubt Ren's word on anything.

He gave me a vaguely annoyed look while tapping his right temple. "I know everything."

 _You know I can take whatever I want._

A shiver runs down my exposed back but I steel myself. I glance at the image, studying the men. Why don't I recognize them?

"Would you like to know what the penalty is for aiding the Resistance?"

My stomach drops two stories as I realize what he is implying. Death. Probably slow. Definitely painful.

He smirks, making it obvious he has read my mind.

"Why are you telling me this?" I question slowly. "To anger me even more? Lower my morale?"

"Quite the opposite, actually." He presses another button on the droid and a hologram of a planet enters the screen. It looks lush with forests, mountains, lakes. Peaceful. Perfect. "Does this planet appeal to you, Rey?"

I look at him, thoroughly confused. He turns to me, meeting my eyes as his right knee brushes my left. I fight the urge to move away.

"I will make you a bargain."

I keep my mind clear, imagining nothingness.

"What do you mean?" The words come out more timid than I had hoped.

He leans back, the smallest of smirks on his face.

"A bargain. Something that two parties agree to that usually if not always benefits both-"

"I know what a bargain is!"

His face sombers, all attempts at humor aside. This is important to him, that much I can tell. "If you agree and hold up your end, these men will not be killed. They will have their memories wiped, be given a small amount of holdings, and begin a new life on that planet." He tilts his head toward the screen but his eyes stay fixed on me.

This seems just a little too perfect, especially from a man who prides himself as the dark knight of the galaxy. Why would he willingly release Resistance fighters? What will I owe him? Do I want to know? I imagine a dozen scenarios and have to stop myself. I'll go mad with the what ifs. I will do whatever I need to in order to save these men's lives. Especially if they fight for the Resistance.

I turn to Kylo, mentally accepting whatever he has planned. "What do I owe you for their lives, Lord Ren?" I cannot help but drip sarcasm onto his title.

A light settles into his eyes, and they are shockingly warm. He grins. "Just a smile."

AN: I apologize for the lack of Reylo, I'm still trying to set the foundation of the story. I promise Reylo is coming soon! Stay tuned! :)


	4. Chapter 4

AN: I've created a full outline for this story! Also I've drawn heavily on ACOTAR for this chapter. Credit goes to the amazing Sarah J Maas.

Chapter 4

I. [Rey]

I smile.

It nearly kills me, and I consider an attempt Force-choking him instead, but I smile.

I hate myself for it, knowing I am playing right into his hand. What comes after a smile? A touch, a kiss? More? This is a treacherous slope and I am quickly losing my footing.

But the prisoners- if they truly are fighters, especially ones I don't know, then the Resistance is growing. Leia has not given up. If I can aid her in any way, wouldn't this all be worth it?

He chuckles at my sorry excuse for a smile, but accepts it. He stands, calls in a Lieutenant.

"There are five men in Bay 74. Get a droid. Wipe their memories, then send them to these coordinates. Provide enough money for a year for each of them. Send in a report stating they have been executed and their remains burned, on my orders. Return here immediately when you're finished."

The Lieutenant seems to have learned not to question Ren's orders under any circumstance, because his face stays completely impassive. Nothing but a quick nod and a turn of his heel, leaving Ren and I alone again.

He faces me. "You look nice tonight."

"Thank you."

"Will you be my wife?"

I clench my teeth. "No, I will not."

"Not even after I saved those prisoners?"

"You mean after your minions captured them in the first place? Besides, that wasn't our bargain."

He raises an eyebrow at the word "minions", but other than that betrays no emotion. I wonder where all his pent-up frustration from our time together is vented. I pray I never find out.

"Very well then," he states mechanically. "We're finished. I'll call for troopers to escort you back to your rooms."

Wait, we're done? It's barely been twenty minutes. Is this simply a new tactic he's taking with me, or just finally giving up? I run the conversation through in my mind again, and become snagged on a single point.

"Kylo," I begin. He glances up sharply, no doubt shocked to hear me call him by that name. "Why did you only ask for a smile? The Resistance - they're important to me. You could have asked for almost anything and I would have agreed."

"I know," He breathes tiredly.

I can't help but be taken aback by his seemingly noble actions.

"I would never force myself on you, Rey."

"I know." I'm shocked by my own words but as soon as they escape, I know they're true. He has had multiple opportunities to take advantage of me - even years ago, on Starkiller - and never has. Even that kiss, from so many months ago, was welcomed by me. And since then, he has never tried anything. No kisses, embraces, not even the touch of a hand.

I stare up at him, realizing we've somehow moved toward each other in this conversation, and are now standing less than a foot apart. He is much taller than me, leading to my looking up and his looking down. My eyes run over the jagged scar across his face, given by me so long ago. It's faded since then, now barely noticeable. But I see it every time I look at him. I search his eyes, sense the Force around us. No, there is something even more than the Force. Some kind of..electricity. It is unnerving.

I see his eyes flicker down to my mouth, just for the briefest of moments, a question beginning to form on his lips.

I push past him and slide open the door myself, almost running back to my room with the troopers in tow.

II. [Kylo]

I enter the room, but a single glance shows me that I am no longer on the destroyer. The walls are made of crude stone, but large windows make the room airy. Pure sunshine is all that illuminates the simple living space. Basic furniture is scattered throughout, along with odds and ends. I nearly trip over a miniature ship laying on the floor.

 _Where am I?_

From another doorway a woman enters. Her tan skin is glowing in a golden gown, hitting just above her knee. Her hair is tied, loose curls tumbling down her back, a golden hair piece that accentuates her gown. I squint at her, trying to place her. She seems so familiar. She turns to me, her face breaking into the most radiant smile I've ever seen. I would know that face anywhere.

"Ben!" She cries, opening her arms to me.

 _Wait, Ben?! Why would Rey be calling me Ben?_

Behind her a hear the giggle of a small child.

* * *

I sit straight up, my hair and body soaked in sweat.

A dream. Nothing more than a dream.

But even in my short time training under my uncle, I learned of Force visions.

I shake my head, sure that this is nothing more than my own desperate desires. A family with Rey - of course it's what I want.

The rest of the vision - no, _dream_ \- is what disturbs me. Her calling me Ben; living in such a simple space, clearly on a planet. In my own desires I'd always imagined us on a ship, ruling the galaxy. Regal and aloof, not relaxed and simple.

I lay there for another minute, reliving our almost kiss this evening. There was a current of electricity between us. I know she felt it. It was palpable.

It's getting harder to hold myself back. I need her so desperately that it has become a constant ache in my gut.

 _Patience, Ren. She will submit._ Snoke's earlier assurances echo in my mind.

I dress quickly: just a shirt, pants, and boots. I leave my mask behind, confident I won't run into anyone important.

I stalk the corridors but there is no one to challenge me - not that they would anyway. In a matter of minutes I have reached my destination, a place I've come to visit almost nightly. Though I would never tell her, this is why I removed the guards from her doorway, assigning them to patrol the halls instead. During these nighttime escapades, I would much rather avoid the headache of dealing with troopers.

I press in the code to Rey's door.

It slides open and I take eleven silent steps toward her bed, confident that the sound of the waterfall will cover any noise I could possible make, and I watch her sleep. It is the only time I can admire her without disdain altering her features. My breath catches at her raw beauty - she is unfinished, unpolished, but I prefer it that way. There have been many women over the years, more beautiful, certainly more open to me, vying for my attention and power, but none of them have held my interest like the woman sleeping before me. The others I could figure out in minutes. I'm confident not even a lifetime would be long enough to understand Rey.

I stand there for a minute, maybe a week. Time is of no matter when she's close to me. Almost involuntarily, I hear myself mutter.

"Why won't you love me?"

Her face scrunches up, just slightly. Is she waking up? I place my left hand on her cheek, instantly calming her with the Force. Her breathing returns to its normal deep rhythm. I prepare to leave, not wanting to disturb her any more than I already have, when she turns her face toward my hand. Seeking me.

I know I shouldn't care, that this isn't real. Especially while she's asleep. But I cannot stop myself from lingering just a moment longer, imagining that this could really be us in six months, a year. Me comforting her during her nightmares. Making her feel safe, protected.

If she wasn't so incredibly stubborn.

Her face contorts again, and she whispers a name. Not mine.

The name on her lips is Poe.

I feel my blood begin to boil, my teeth begin to clench.

The golden Poe Dameron. The boy I've known practically since birth, who was shoved on me, my mother saying what a good friend he would be for me. Only the years would show what the golden boy would take from me- my mother's attention; the admiration of others; even the flying lessons from my father.

I feel the anger roiling in my stomach and I cannot stop myself from frantically searching Rey's memories, not even caring if the mental disturbance wakes her.

They come like rapid fire, a blaster shooting over and over into my chest.

Dameron, introducing himself shortly after Starkiller, his hand lingering in hers just a touch too long.

Dameron giving her tips on how to fly the Falcon as she prepares for her mission to see Luke. His hands brushing her hair back. She doesn't move away.

Finn asking how things are progressing, and Rey's face breaking into a sheepish smile.

Dameron trapping her between his arms, much as I did in the cell, his hand reaching to brush her cheek.

Dameron pulling her close after the death of Luke, stroking her hair and promising he would protect her. Liar.

I speak, the words tumbling out painfully. "So this is why you resist me," I can feel my blood rushing, the dark side of the force overwhelming me. "Well take heed little scavenger. I will make you forget Poe ever existed."

I stay still only long enough to keep her unconscious, ensuring she will sleep for several more hours. I feel my muscles tense as I storm from the room. The door hasn't even closed before I pull out my saber.

I've never hated anything or anyone as much as I hate that pilot.

III. [Rey]

I wake the next morning feeling extremely groggy. I am sure something happened last night but...what was it?

A knock on my door, and I count a full three seconds before a trooper enters. I perk up immediately. The nervous trooper, the one who left the napkin. Could he have something else for me?

He says nothing, simply hands me another napkin. I feel for the stitching of the B and there it is, in the left corner. I sigh inwardly. If this really was a message, wouldn't there be multiple letters? Or at least varying letters from napkin to napkin? It must simply be a logo of some sort and I am reading too deeply into it.

Finally convinced that handing me the napkin is nothing more than a strange custom, I say nothing and instead thank him for delivering the meal. He leaves quietly, lingering just a moment at the door.

Despite my reservations, I place the napkin under my mattress, where it fits snugly next to the first.

* * *

I am sweating profusely at this training session, being pushed further than I ever have before. Patch is merciless to all of us today. Halfway through the session, we learn why: a small Resistance gathering has been found.

From the whispers I've learned that the gathering is in a remote village in the mountains of an ice planet. The village itself is only home to roughly two hundred people, so there is no real concern among the First Order over the undoubtedly minuscule amount of rebels hiding there. But still my heart soars.

We are not completely destroyed, as the First Order would have us believe. No, in fact, quite the opposite.

We are growing.

Just in case our squadron is needed for the mission, we are commanded to be in top physical condition. We must be ready for anything. I know I will never go on this mission and even if I could, I would never take part in the surely planned execution. Still, I push myself, preparing for my own possible battle someday.

I need to be ready too.

IV. [Kylo]

My hands clamp on my lightsaber, itching to ignite it. I ignore the urge, remaining still as I glare at the trooper in front of me. He is unmasked, but I keep mine on. At this moment intimidation is my greatest ally.

I speak slowly, not wanting to confuse this idiot any more than I apparently already have. "And you are sure, you saw the pilot Poe Dameron die? You would swear your life on it?"

There, I see it. Hesitation in his eyes. Is he truly thinking about _lying_ to me in this moment?

I use the Force to slam him against the wall, straining my hand toward him as I sift through his thoughts.

The trooper in a TIE-fighter, following Dameron's ship, shooting at him. Hitting his left wing. Dameron's ship spiraling down into the atmosphere before crashing into the side of a mountain.

"So," I begin gravely. "You saw his ship crash, but you never saw a body?"

"Well, sir - "

"I believe that contradicts your report from over a year ago. I have it here - yes - you confirmed seeing the pilot's remains after impact. And yet, that does not match what you remember. Very interesting." I tighten my hand, choking him.

"Did you see Dameron after the crash, or did you not?"

"Sir," he chokes out, barely breathing, his hands clawing at his neck to no avail. "There is no way he could have survived that crash - "

"There is no way he could have survived the crash on Jakku either!" I roar. "But he did!"

 _He could still be alive._

 _He could come for Rey._

I release my hold on the trooper. He gulps in breaths. I finally pull out my saber, fueled with anger at the realization of the pilot's possible escape.

"Now, soldier, let me show you what it looks like to confirm a death."

V. [Rey]

Several hours later, I'm dressed for dinner but have not been called yet. I decide a nap is in order; I can barely keep my eyelids from drooping after a strange night and a grueling session. I flop down on the couch, careless of whether or not I will wrinkle my dress.

My mind wanders back to the news of the ice village. Patch seemed perturbed when he told us, so the First Order must be more concerned than they are letting on. How many rebels could be there? Is Leia there? How did the First Order find this information? Perhaps Finn is there...or Poe. But no, I have to be realistic. Finn is surely gone too, along with Poe.

I gulp in breaths to fend off the tears. I could fill an ocean with the drops I've spilled on this blasted ship. I begin to count to one thousand, focusing only on the numbers flashing in my mind, the soft linen of the dress, the way I sink into the couch. Relax, relax. Sleep.

I must drift off, because the sound of the door startles me awake.

I sit up, once again reaching for a non-existent weapon, but slacken when I see it's merely Kylo. He looks somewhat haphazard: his hair is wet, as if he just showered; his clothes look hastily thrown together. The mask is nowhere in sight. Where was he previously?

"May I sit?"

He takes my silence for acquiescence. He sits much closer than necessary, our knees again brushing, his arm on the back of the couch, just above my shoulders. I feel a shiver through my spine...and it is not entirely unpleasant.

"How was your day?"

"Fine. And yours?"

He hesitates just a moment. "As well as it could have been."

A strange answer. Perhaps under normal circumstances I would have thought through it more, finding a hidden message between the words, as so often is Kylo's style.

But it is incredibly difficult to concentrate when I can feel the heat radiating from his body.

"I have another bargain for you."

I blink rapidly, hoping the motion will clear my brain and bring back my senses. Blast him! "What do you want?"

"Let's talk about what you want first." He digs in his pocket for a small machine that produces another hologram, this one of a small village.

The ice village with the Resistance fighters.

"What will you do to them?"

He clicks the machine off, returning it to his clothing. "Nothing. I will send undercover troopers ahead, who will clear the village out and set up decoys. The First Order will destroy the village, and no one will be the wiser. If you cooperate."

I swallow. This is it. He is going to demand marriage and I will have no choice to accept. I steel myself to the proposal that is surely coming.

"What is it you want this time, Ren?"

His hand slides back, just slightly, so he can capture a lock of my hair, curling it around his finger. He leans in close, so close I can feel his cool breath on my neck, his nose tickling my ear.

"I want a secret."


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Thank you so so much to everyone who has followed, added to favorites, and especially reviewed! I live for reviews and you all have kept me so motivated with this story. Please forgive any typos or grammatical errors, I was trying to get this chapter out as quickly as I could but hopefully I will have some time to go through and edit any errors. Thanks and enjoy!

Chapter 5

[Rey]

My eyelids flutter and I hear my own breath hitch. Why is he sitting so close? I attempt to clear my mind, put up some sort of shield in case he decides to take his secret by mental force. But my mind is so clouded by the feel of his bare hand - when did he take his gloves off? Did he ever have them on? - gently tracing the line of my jaw. I focus on his face, expecting a smirk, some sign of victory at my obvious reaction to his touch, but there is none. Just a deep hunger in his eyes, like this is the last time he will ever see me. Before I realize it he has planted a hundred images - consciously or not, I cannot tell - in my mind, firing in rapid succession, all from his point of view.

Him chasing me in the forest, _desperate_ to find me...sending me to sleep, cradling me close, refusing when troopers offered to carry me...waiting for me to wake up...his desperate desire to know everything about me during the interrogation...his absolute fury at seeing me escape...following me into the snowy forest, then to Luke's refuge, then to a desert planet, then a mountainous planet, and a metropolis planet...one after another. Always him pursuing me, putting me before the desires of the First Order... always that insatiable need to capture me once and for all and keep me near him. All those memories…

...leading to this moment.

I close my eyes, jerk my head away from his touch. I stand up, holding my face in my hands, rubbing my temples, calling on the Force to calm me, make me see things clearly.

"What kind of a secret?" I croak. I dare not turn around nor lift my head. I do not want to see his reaction to my obvious rejection.

I hear him sigh, hear him lean back against the couch. Frustrated.

"Anything. So long as it's about you."

I finally turn around. "As opposed to what?"

"Oh, I don't know," he nearly spits. "Secrets about your traitor, 2187. Or the Resistance. Or...Dameron."

 _Does he know?_ I panic.

 _Though, what does it matter..._ I think bitterly. _Poe is dead._

I blank my face immediately, buying time as I scurry through my own mind, looking for a "secret" that is worthless; that he cannot corrupt.

I look at him, triumphant.

"I can't swim."

I watch his face, checking for signs of anger to this completely useless information, but he offers no reaction.

"You grew up on a desert planet, scavenger. Of course you can't swim. And obviously a complete imbecile could infer that about you, so how is it a secret?"

I smart at the implied insult, but stand my ground.

"True, but a secret is something that you do not share with others," I reason. A weak argument but perhaps he'll accept it. "I have never shared that fact...and so it is a secret. Save the village."

His brow furrows. "But weren't you training with Luke on an ocean planet for over a year? Did you never learn then?"

I lower my eyes at the memory. It was one thing that always made me terrified - I knew the sort of monsters that lived on land and in the skies. What sort of monsters lived in the sea?

"No," I say through gritted teeth. "I did not." It disturbs me how casually he speaks of Luke when it was his knights who killed him.

A pause. He watches me, his eyes lingering just a touch too long. I am grateful it is not his hands. Finally he speaks.

"Well, that was a good secret, scavenger. The village will be safe, you have my word. Have you decided to marry me, yet?"

"Yes I have decided. No, I will not." A tired reply to a tired question.

I see the frustration as his hand twitches, as if reaching for his saber, but he resists. He stands, walks toward the door, stops without turning to look at me.

"It could be wonderful, you know," he says so quietly I'm not sure I'm meant to hear it. "We wouldn't need these games, these bargains anymore. As my wife, anything you could possibly desire would be yours. I would require nothing."

He exits without a backward glance.

"Nothing except my life, Ren." My heart twists at the cold realization.

The next morning, after receiving my breakfast and a third "B" napkin, which I stuff under my mattress with the other two, I am surprised to find the droids entering my room. Usually Patch would be arriving around this time to escort me to training sessions - perhaps our squadron was chosen for the ice village mission. I breathe a sigh of relief knowing no harm will come to innocents today.

The droids open my wardrobe, packing the lighter, more revealing dresses.

"What are you doing?"

"You are leaving within the hour with Lord Ren." A mechanical response and if hitting this droid would actually injure it, I would so with no qualms. Why am I always the last to know every blasted thing?

I pound at the door, five, six, seven times before a trooper finally answers it. "My Lady?"

"Contact Lord Ren," I command. "Tell him I need to speak with him _now_." The trooper doesn't hesitate and within ten minutes an unmasked Kylo has entered my room.

I gesture to the busy droids. Over half my dresses have been packed away. "What, exactly, do you have planned?"

He offers me a rare smile, and for the first time I see how it lights his face, warms his eyes.. "Teaching you how to swim."

II. [Kylo]

Our timing is impeccable.

We arrive at the cusp of Naboo's summer season; the trees are bright green, the flowers intoxicating in their appearance and scent. The feel of the air is warm, like a sweet drink running down my throat, satisfying and nostalgic.

As a child my mother would bring me here each summer, occasionally accompanied by my father. We would stay in my grandmother's old residence, by the lake. It had long since been abandoned by other Amidala family members; the tragedy of Padme keeping them from visiting here. My mother explained that she never knew her own biological parents, and this was a way for her to be close to them - the way they were, before their world fell apart.

My mother would tell me, at least once each time we were here, of the Skywalkers' story, obtained from Padme's own journals hidden deep in the recesses of her living quarters on Coruscant. How they met when she was a young queen and he a slave boy, then separated for a decade. How, before the Clone Wars, Anakin came as Padme's bodyguard, but here, in this isolated refuge, he was finally able to profess his affection. They were married on the balcony, where they had their first kiss.

The story was always a bore to me growing up - I preferred to think of my grandfather as the legendary dark leader; not some lovestruck fool. Just in this one capacity did I dare to consider myself more advanced than him; I would never fall prey to something as fickle and chaotic as love.

Until the scavenger.

I feel my blood begin to rush, my heart speed up as my breath catches merely at the thought of her. She is intoxicating and I cannot control myself for much longer - this is the only thing of which I am certain.

I wait on the balcony, the same one so central to my grandparents' story, dressed in a simple blue shirt and brown pants; a refreshing change from the tight black ensembles I wear with the First Order. We are here mostly with local servants and droids; I do not fear my reputation getting away from me. I feel the warm breeze ruffle my hair, tickle my clothes; enticing me to relax, let go of responsibilities. I wonder if the same words were spoken to my grandfather, so long ago, when he forsook everything for the woman he loved.

I shake my head, clearing my thoughts. Love is a dangerous weapon.

Perhaps the most dangerous of all.

III. Rey

It is refreshing in some ways and yet embarrassing in others to be dressed by real people. The helpers are all female, leading me to feel great relief as they bathe me and place me in what they call a _swimsuit_ \- though I would say it borders on nothing more than underwear. The entire length of my legs is exposed. I cannot remember the last time I showed this much skin to anyone. I breathe a heavy sigh of relief as they place a yellow gown over the suit.

Despite my reservations about Kylo's inevitable motives, I find myself enjoying this trip. It's my first time on solid ground in almost six months. I remember from my time in the archives how important Naboo has been, especially to the Republic. It is almost bewitching in its beauty and calm...one could live here quietly, forever, blissfully unaware of the upset in the Galaxy.

The women lead me through a narrow corridor, covered ceiling to floor in portraits. Upon my inquiry they inform me of the family who used to live here...but most of the living descendants have dispersed, this residence becoming a painful reminder of a past tragedy.

Within minutes I am led to a small stone balcony, covered in green multi-hued flowers and I cannot hide my initial delight at seeing the plants. I nearly miss the presence of Kylo, dressed so informally. He offers a small smile at my reaction to the plants.

"Is your true ambition to be a farmer?"

I look toward the water below, keeping a healthy distance from him and that searing look in his eyes. "All I've ever wanted is to live somewhere green, where I can tend to a garden."

"You don't want to be a Jedi?"

I swallow painfully. "Given the state of things...I think that past is behind me. No...just somewhere green. That is my wish now." I finish the line of thought abruptly, not wanting to remember painful truths, especially not in front of him.

"All I've ever wanted is to give that to you."

I look at him and see only truth in his eyes. I stop, confused. I know how to deal with the monster, Lord Ren. This new, gentle, patient Kylo is severely testing my strategy.

"You're much more like your mother, you know."

His eyes snap from the lake to my eyes, perturbed. His voice is a quiet, controlled simmer, nearing anger. This is a dangerous topic and we both know it. "What do you mean?"

"You look like Han, there's no denying that," That same painful twist in my stomach begins again, but I press on. "But you don't have that same...recklessness to you. At least," I add hastily, remembering the many repairs needed to my room after he destroyed it with a saber,"Not usually. You are more aware of others than you let on. Much more loyal...devoted. Like Leia."

His face shows me that he doesn't know if I am trying to insult him or compliment him. The words are out before I can take them back and they hang over us uncomfortably. We both look down, in opposite directions, avoiding each other's eyes.

He clears his throat. Reaches for my hand, trying to pull me close to him, near the railing.

I let him.

IV. [Kylo]

I do not know what to make of her accusations. I'm like my mother? She was hardly what I would call _devoted._ At least, not to people. She cared only for her forces, her work. My father was gone most of time, as was I, trying to keep myself occupied, and she never seemed to care.

Though, when I was younger, I remember her staying up with me all through the night, soothing me during my illnesses... her loving attention to my father when he would finally come home, fawning over the gifts he brought her, however small.

I imagine myself returning home, bringing Rey and our children gifts, looking after her and the little ones, being a _devoted_ father. A warmth settles into my chest. Perhaps being like my mother in that way would not be so terrible.

Instantly I feel a strange pull in my chest, as if ripping the warmth out through my rib cage. A deep cloud of blackness settles in its place. The dark side. Being a devoted father is for other men. My place is to rule the galaxy, with a queen by my side. I nearly lose my footing at the overwhelming feeling and pray to anyone who will listen that Snoke never finds out about this.

I pull Rey close to me, both of us leaning on the balcony railing. I point out toward the lake, showing her a small island just a short distance inward.

"Do you see that island? That is our destination. By the end of the day, I will have you swimming to that island."

She throws a sidelong glance at me, nonchalant, but I observe the sheen of sweat on her neck, shoulders, back. She is nervous. "Or else you'll do what?"

"Excuse me, desert rat?"

She senses my teasing and grins infinitesimally. "Let's make a bet. If I can't swim to that island, what will you give me?"

"What do you want?"

She raises her chin. "One of _your_ secrets."

I eye her warily. "And if I do get you to swim to that island? What will you give me?"

"What do _you_ want?"

"I want you to answer a question for me. Honestly."

"Agreed. Though," she exclaims nervously, eyeing the water. "I wouldn't concern yourself too much with that."

AN: The next chapter is written, I'm just making edits! It should be up in the next day or two!


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Thanks to those who reviewed! It keeps me motivated! :)

Breann Hill- Thank you! I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

Guest - Thanks for your question about Kylo's use of "scavenger" and "desert rat." Kylo wants to woo her but still isn't exactly sure how to do that - he lacks his father's confidence. Rey is beginning to realize that he is merely teasing her when he uses "desert rat," and that "scavenger" has become his own personal term of endearment for her, instead of more common ones like darling, sweetheart, etc. Hope that clears up some confusion!

Chapter 6

I. Rey

I stand on the brink of the lake, the waves rolling over my feet for mere seconds at a time, while my feet sink into wet sand, mold to form my footprints. The bottom of my yellow silk dress is wet and apparently ruined which is, according to Kylo-know-it-all-Ren, my own fault because I won't take it off.

I wave him off, trying to prepare myself for the inevitable.

I take a step into the lake. Move the other foot forward. Keep walking at Kylo's insistence, shivering despite the comfortable temperature. Soon I am up to my knees. I cannot stop myself from looking for him, searching for approval for how deeply I've ventured.

It is not lost on me how the muscles of his arms, chest, and abdomen are clearly defined through his soaked shirt. He gives me a grin and my cheeks redden - I cannot tell if he is grinning at my progress or my observations of him.

I close my eyes, focus, turn my head forward again. _Raise your arms, dive in; kick your feet, push the water behind you with your hands._ Sounds simple enough. I raise my arms to a point, kick off the shallow sand and dive into deeper water.

I do not anticipate the flow of the waves happening underwater, but they come, tossing me this way and that. I forget all instructions and wave frantically, opening my mouth to scream and instead swallow lungfuls of water. I feel two strong hands grab me by my waist and yank me upward.

Kylo slams his hand on my back, forcing the water out of my lungs. I cling to him desperately, coughing until my throat is sorely irritated.

"You," he sighs over the sound of the water, "are a fool. Always rushing headfirst into whatever disaster you can find."

"I did what you asked!" I say indignantly, between coughs.

"No, you didn't. I told you to swim back to shore, not into deeper water."

I humph and release myself from his hold, not bothering to thank him.

I feel his rough hand grab mine. On some level I register that his hand should not be rough, not with wearing gloves so often. I fear my hands are permanently calloused from Jakku. Will he notice?

 _Rey, you idiot,_ I scold myself. _Should you care?!_

He begins to walk backward through the water, holding tightly onto my hand. I follow, somewhat begrudgingly.

His arm circles around my waist, dipping me down toward the water.

"Lift your feet. Let the water and me carry you."

I roll my eyes but do as he instructs. He lets go of my waist, reaching for my hands. I strain to keep my head high, fearing I will sink and swallow more of the lake.

"Relax. Close your eyes."

He pulls me in a gentle circle, our hands connected. He stays in one place as I slowly float around him, my feet pointing outward. He lets me go, telling me to keep my back slightly arched in order to float.

"Now, move your arms and kick your legs, gently." I do so and find myself moving. Am I truly swimming?

No, I am not. I feel myself sinking, getting tangled in the fabric of my dress. Again I come up sputtering, and again Kylo clears my lungs.

"The dress is weighing you down," he states. "You'll never be able to swim properly while wearing it."

"Well then I guess I'm never learning to swim properly."

He simply looks at me, searching my face. A heat settles into my chest. I stare at him only a moment, entranced by his dark eyes, at the small flecks of light residing there.

"Turn around," I instruct. He does so.

I wade back to shore, yanking the dress off.

"Stay that way!" I yell to him as I step slowly into deeper water. The feel of the water on my bare legs makes me catch my breath. Never in my most vivid dreams on Jakku did I imagine being completely surrounded by something as luxurious and rare as water.

Kylo turns around and his eyes rake over me, not even attempting to be discreet. I sink deeper into the water until only my head is above the surface, not wanting him to see me like this - no one has ever seen me like this.

He dives into the waves, appearing by my side in an instant. He grabs my hands and gently pulls me upwards, until I am standing at my full height.

"Rey," he whispers, "you are... _perfect_."

I blush as he grabs pulls me into deeper water, repeating his technique from before, and this time I don't sink when he lets go. I keep afloat for several minutes, enjoying the cool water and sunshine, when I feel something slither near my left foot.

I shriek, limbs flailing, and reach for Kylo. He tows me toward the shallows, grinning at my reaction. "Rey, it was just a fish. No bigger than your thumb."

My chest heaves as I attempt to talk myself out of my fears. _It's not a monster. There are no monsters in this lake._

I turn to Kylo, seeing the water droplets reflect on his pale skin as he eyes me carefully, making sure I am all right.

 _There are no monsters in this lake._

* * *

We swim for several more hours, mostly without incident. Once or twice Kylo grabs my leg from underneath the water and comes up laughing at my reaction. I realize I love the sound of his laughter, so rare, like finding a sparkling diamond in a pile of scraps.

True to his word, I swim to the island by the end of the day. We lounge on the beach, drying ourselves in the sunlight; I in my yellow dress that Kylo dutifully retrieved from the opposite shore. We are just out of reach of the waves, and enjoy a basket of fruit and baked goods brought here by boat several hours earlier.

I find myself talking to him of my childhood, and he speaks of his. Our similarities run deep. We both grew up lonely, feeling stuck, too afraid to change our circumstances. We both longed for the comfort of a parent, of acceptance, of wanting _more._ I try not to be frightened by these parallels. Four years ago - even four months ago - I would never have wanted anything in common with him. Now I'm not so sure.

"Well," says Kylo, slowly standing and running his hands through his nearly dry hair. "I believe I won the bet."

I roll my eyes but concede.

"You owe me an honest answer to one question."

"Fine," I wave my hand in annoyance. "Ask your question." What was just beginning to feel like a real friendship - _something more_ , a little voice in my head whispers; I tell it to hush - is going to be ruined by a surely terrible marriage proposal.

"Though," He adds somewhat...nervously? "I think to get an honest answer I may need to try something."

I look up at him, perplexed. He reaches for my hand, pulling me up and close to him. His hands slide from my own to circle my waist as his eyes flicker to my mouth then up again, asking silent permission. Oh.

 _It's just us now._

I don't pull away, completely locked in place - though not by him. This time it is my own traitorous emotions keeping me here, in his embrace and my mind and heart wrestle in a near-death match. His left hand leaves my waist to brush my hair back, then slides down my neck to my collarbone, his thumb resting on the tip of it. His nose brushes against mine and I feel his hot breath on my lips. I watch the corners of his mouth tug upward as he whispers, "Close your eyes."

I oblige and in the same moment feel the warm pressure of his full lips against mine, gentle at first, but growing urgent. His hand moves from my collarbone to my hair, tangling in it as he pulls me even closer, holding me up so I can reach his height. I run my fingers through his thick hair, finally realizing that I have had the desire to do so for much longer than I care to admit. I crush my body into his, realizing that I need this as desperately as he does. This moment has been months - years - in the making, and we both know it.

This kiss is so much different from our first...that one was nothing more than domination from him, proof that he could own me. This is an urgent, willful need from both of us, equal in its weight and wrath. I grab fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him even closer.

He tastes like icy woods, like fallen snow; like the coldest winter to combat my infernal summer. Two opposing sides, brought together by an unexplained and irrevocable attraction.

Moments, maybe months later, we finally break apart. I turn away quickly, hugging my sides, letting the full weight of what I have done settle over me. For the briefest of moments Poe flashes in my mind - but he is gone - if I can find some semblance of happiness, isn't that enough? Perhaps that is all I will ever have...a half-life, never what I truly want but enough to keep me complacent. Not any different from Jakku.

But I cannot deny the fulfillment from that kiss. It went beyond a basic human need, to something so deep inside my core that I know this is an act of fate. It has to be.

"Rey," Kylo's voice is still strained, as he tries to catch his breath. "My question."

I turn to him, slowly willing myself to regain some composure, some dignity.

"Do you think," he asked slowly, as if choosing one from a hundred possibilities of this question. "Do you think you could ever...be happy?"

 _Happy with him_ , that is the true question hidden between the words. I swallow, look away, answer truthfully to the question that I have thought about as well for months now.

I don't look at him as answer in a whisper, barely audible over the waves, "Yes, I...I think that maybe I could."

* * *

We share a dinner together that evening, but it is awkward for entirely new reasons.

The potential of...whatever this is settles over us, nearly suffocating me. I eat hastily, wishing to return to my room to think, or at the very least, to scream into a pillow. Kylo does not attempt small talk, choosing instead to keep his eyes on his food. What did he think of our kiss? He has not spoken of it since it happened hours ago. We swam back to the lodge, talking of everything except what had just transpired. It nearly killed me.

He scrapes his chair back, the sound especially loud in the midst of our silence. He beckons me to follow him and I do, walking a few steps behind. He stops, waits for me to reach his side, before continuing.

We are walking side by side and the significance is not lost on me.

We silently weave through corridors, occasionally running into staff but even then only a quick word is exchanged. Within minutes we have arrived at my room. He opens the door but doesn't come inside.

I turn to him, expecting the usual proposal, especially after today's events. Instead he turns to leave.

"Kylo," I blush as the tone of my voice is much more earnest than I intended. "You're not...asking me anything?" I cannot decipher this new strategy, if it even is one.

He walks slowly back, never taking his eyes off me, the smallest of grins forming. He bends down kisses my forehead for the briefest of seconds. "No," he says quietly. "No more questions tonight."

* * *

I flop back on the bed, exhausted. My mind is reeling from complete upset in every aspect of my life.

Before my capture, everything was black and white, sea and sky. Everyone who fought for the Resistance was right. Everyone who fought for the First Order was wrong. Now, I'm not so sure. I feel as though every perspective from every person I've ever met is taking up residence in my mind, screaming to be heard, and I'm nearly bursting at the seams trying to understand all their voices at once.

I've seen for myself good people in the First Order who, perhaps, are just doing what they can to survive or send money home to their families; like Patch. Others who are not inherently evil; who truly think that the First Order will improve the Galaxy. I shudder at the thought, but on some twisted level, I understand it. Yes, the First Order has killed so, so many - but haven't we, too? How many of the troopers have actually been innocent, like Finn? And they died anyway.

And Kylo. He was nothing more than a barbaric monster; a puppet for Snoke. Someone I was sure was just a demon in a mask, but has turned out so differently. The man confuses me in every way. How could the same man who murdered his father speak of becoming a father himself - with me? How could he go back on the First Order's commands and save those Resistance fighters and the ice village, without any thought to the consequences he will surely have to endure? How could the same lips who have uttered so many death sentences kiss mine with such tenderness?

Well, the answer to that much is clear. In his own twisted way, Kylo Ren...loves me.

The realization settles over me like a hot blanket, suffocating me. His proposals, his bargains - they are more than just manipulation or an attempt at power. They are his way of...loving me.

And how could I, knowing everything I know about him, after everything I've endured by his hand, care for him in some small way as well? I know it's true. There is some part of me, however infinitesimal, who has fallen for him these past few months. Who cares for his well being. Who wants to know what he is thinking, and what he thinks of me.

I remember Finn telling me about Kylo, standing in the snow just after he'd knocked me out, screaming at the ex-storm trooper.

 _Traitor!_

That's all I am now, too. Caring for the Master of the Knights of Ren guarantees that fact. I feel physically ill at the realization. I remember browsing the archives on the ship, learning about Padme Amidala, the beautiful queen from this very planet; her marriage to Anakin Skywalker before he turned to the Dark Side. Did she care about him too, despite the horrific things he'd done? Did she know that loving him would be the death of her?

Would loving Kylo be the death of me?

I run to the bathroom, emptying my stomach.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Some serious stuff is about to go down. Gear up.**

 **Reference from Lost. All credit to writers. It was a perfect line for this story though, so I couldn't resist…**

 **Breann Hill - Thank you for your kind review! Do let me know what you think of this chapter, as it is quite darker than its predecessors.**

Chapter 7

[Rey]

We stay on Naboo a few more days, practicing different swimming techniques and exploring old vineyards and villages. He explains more of Naboo's history, particularly of his grandmother Padme. My chest tightens every time he mentions her as I remember my own similarities to her; our shared interest in our volatile dark princes.

"Did Padme have any family?" I ask as we walk through a fruit orchard.

"Yes - her parents, of course, and I believe she had a sister," he answers absentmindedly.

"What happened to them?"

He shrugs. "I've no idea."

I feel a twinge in my stomach at how carelessly he writes off members of his own family. I shove it down though, determined not to let anything disturb this time with him.

He doesn't kiss me again.

Occasionally he reaches for my hand, or circles an arm about my waist. He offers smiles more freely, but speaks less. He has stopped his daily proposals and I once again find myself staggering, aching to keep up with him in this arms race of strategies.

But he is always ten steps ahead.

After a week on Naboo he informs me that we will be returning to the destroyer; Hux has sent an urgent message regarding a possible Resistance base. I think of Leia and hope she has set up provisions in case they really have been found.

We board Kylo's personal ship; there are a dozen troopers on board and Kylo is back in his First Order ensemble, mask included. I already feel him slipping from me. I pull at the fabric of the tight red dress he insisted I wear. My hair is styled in an intricate braid, a few loose tendrils framing my face. I feel that we are both playing a part, that we left our real selves back on Naboo.

And I feel my heart crack, just in the slightest.

We arrive on the destroyer and I am immediately escorted by troopers to my old rooms, where I am left alone for several hours. A trooper comes to deliver a meal but it is not the nervous one - this one is much more cold and formal. He drops the tray and leaves quickly without a word. Immediately I grab my napkin to check for the crudely stiched B. There is none, confirming my theory. While at the lake lodge I checked every napkin I was handed; none of them had the B. So it cannot be a logo of any sort. The nervous trooper must be sewing them on himself - but why bother? Is it the first letter of his First Order name, similar to Finn's FN-2187? Why wouldn't he just tell me, instead of offering me the napkins?

...I let out a cry of frustration and throw away the plain napkin, followed quickly by the entire tray of food.

* * *

Ten days go by, and I continue to be ignored except for meals, only four of which included the anxious trooper and the B napkins. I try to question him but he stays silent. I pace my room, trying to convince myself that Kylo is simply busy with the First Order, that surely he would make time for me if he could.

But at night, when I try to sleep by reliving memories in the waters of Naboo, a strange presence visits me, blocking out the memories, forcing blackness to enter my mind. He is male; that is all I can be sure of. He stands just on the edges of my consciousness, where I cannot see him; cannot respond to him; only listen to him.

And he whispers doubts.

T _his is simply another game to Kylo. You mean nothing to him. The proposals, the kiss...all have been ways to manipulate you. You are nothing more than a prey to be hunted; a prize to be won. He will never care for you in the way he has led you to believe._

It becomes harder to stifle the presence the longer I am left alone, and by the tenth day, when Patch finally retrieves me for training, I am beginning to believe it.

* * *

I pound my fists into Patch's gloved hands, over and over again until my muscles are shrieking and Patch himself asks me for a minute to recover. The rest of the squadron is long gone, Patch and I continuing to train at my request. I bend over, my hands on my knees, breathing heavily. I feel my knuckles splinter slightly from the worst of the punches I've thrown toward Patch and I revel in the pain - much better to feel it in my hands than in my heart.

 _You mean nothing to him._

"So, Kenobi," begins Patch in as friendly a voice as he dares to use just now, "I sense that something is...troubling you."

I glower at his obviously sarcastic statement, resenting the teasing, though I know it is just to lighten the heavy mood. I smooth my hair and nod quickly though, remembering that it was not Patch who kissed me and left me for dead the last ten days.

"I'm a great listener, I promise."

I roll my eyes at his blatant overconfidence but still find myself cracking a small smile, reveling in his calming, laid-back presence. "Oh really? And who says that?"

His face breaks into a lovestruck smile. "My wife, Kalina. She's back on our home planet - I get to see her every few months."

Patch is married? I think back over our conversations - no, I'm sure he has never mentioned his wife before. I would distinctly remember that. I turn to him, a genuine smile on my face. "That is wonderful, Patch. I had no idea you were married."

"This may come as a shock, Kenobi, but this isn't really the place where one can gush about such things."

I laugh in spite of my own despair. "Yes well," I say, "You can always gush to me."

He places a hand over his heart and spouts dramatically, "Her hair is as fair as a thousand suns, and her eyes are as blue as the calmest sea -"

"Never mind," I laugh, "I pray for your wife's sake that you've never shared your poetic talents with her."

He grins at me as he walks to a corner of the room, where training mats are neatly stacked. He hops onto them and pats the space next to him. "Come here, Kenobi. Tell me what's bothering you before you break my hands with your punches."

I tell him. Not in extreme detail, but enough for him to understand my emotions. True to his word, he is an exemplary listener, only interrupting me to ask clarifying questions. His face darkens at the mention of the lake house on Naboo, but becomes impassive so quickly I begin to think that I may have imagined it. At the end of my speech, he sighs and tilts his head to look at the white ceiling.

"Well, Kenobi...it sounds like you are well on your way to becoming Lady Ren."

I balk for only a second before taking in a breath, ready to argue this idea with everything I've got.

"But," Patch speaks louder, commanding my attention again. "But - that means you will be granted - dare I say are _currently_ being granted - certain privileges with that title. If Ren really means to make you his wife, then he should know better than anyone that that means making you his equal. Go to him. Tell him what you've told me and get the answers you deserve. It is not worth your own pain to simply wait him out."

I sit in silence, digesting this new perspective. "You know him, you've seen him around base. Do you really think _talking_ to him, demanding answers will solve anything?"

"You'll never be happy if you're always fighting for the upper hand," Patch says gently.

I chew on this thought, reminded of Kylo's question on Naboo…. _do you think you could be happy?_ At the time, yes, a thousand times yes. But he switches his character so rapidly I fear I would go to sleep in love with him and wake the next morning ready to kill him. These thoughts make my stomach churn. I think of Patch's suggestion - to talk to him; to demand to be an equal. The idea of equality seems almost laughable to me at this point. I'm reminded of the presence from the last few nights, trying to convince me that I mean nothing to the dark prince; I'm just a toy to be played with until he's bored. I shake my head, not wanting it to be true. He would have given up long ago if that were the case, I'm sure of it. I remember him on Naboo, holding me so tenderly, speaking such sweet things to me, asking me if I could enjoy a life with him. We were equals there.

And how many times has Kylo spoken of me becoming his empress? Doesn't that mean becoming his partner, his confidant? In the _bargain -_ I taste bile at the word that has been used to manipulate me more than once - that is marriage, shouldn't I get something out of it too, not just him?

I intend to find out.

I leap from the mats with renewed vigor and turn to Patch, who is gathering his things. "Thank you, truly. This has helped me so much more than you would believe."

He offers me a genuine smile and I feel such relief at the display of true communication that I impulsively leap into his arms for a quick hug. I've felt a gaping hole since the death of Han, and Patch seems to be filling it, slowly. Someone who wants nothing more than to take care of me and ensure my happiness, with no ulterior motives. He laughs and hugs me back briefly, pulling back but grasping my elbows.

"You'll be fine, Kenobi. You are stronger than you know. I've no doubt about that."

"I surely hope so. Oh!" I grasp at his arms again, willing him to stay another moment to answer one last question. "What of the Resistance base? Have they found it?"

He scowls. "No, it was just a decoy. Your Kylo led the mission and informed us that there has been another possible lead -"

So that's where Kylo's been the last week. I just begin to feel some relief when -

The door behind us is blasted off its frame, landing with a shudder on the opposite side of the room. My heart immediately begins to pound - are we under attack?! I swiftly turn around to see -

A masked Kylo Ren shaking with anger, no doubt staring at the entwined arms of Patch and me.

II. [Kylo]

 _How. Dare. They._

I've just barely returned from the mission and - after searching her rooms, the halls, the archives, everywhere I can think of - I find here here.

With another.

I can barely control my anger as I see Rey and Instructor Tannis, their bodies close, their arms entwined as if just finishing a long embrace. I want so desperately to kill him, how _dare_ he touch her when he knows full well who she belongs to -

Patch steps away quickly, coming to attention. "Sir, I was just answering a few - "

I cut off his voice with a wave as I stalk toward the traitorous pair.

"Get out of here Tannis," I growl through the mask, "before I send you to the front lines to die."

The instructor keeps his eyes on the floor as he exits as quickly as possible. I watch him go before turning to Rey.

I scan her form quickly, as if that would help me to see where Tannis touched her. How long has it been going on? Did they truly think I would never find out? I am tempted to rip through her mind for the memories but no, I want to hear it from her own traitorous lips.

I've left her alone for a few days and - after everything I confided in her; after the way we grew close on Naboo - she betrays my trust, turns to the first man she can find. The dark cloud in my chest nearly bursts with anger.

 _She will pay._

I reach up and rip off my mask, tossing it carelessly to the side, my eyes focused on her. I pull off my cape, my gloves. I form my hands into fists, my eyes still boring daggers into her.

"Let's resume your training, since you seem so _interested_ in it. Fight me."

III. [Rey]

I would have laughed if he didn't look so completely unhinged.

Fight him? Why? Is this truly the first reaction he has after not seeing me for almost two weeks? I was expecting an apology, a proposal, perhaps even another kiss - but certainly not an invitation to battle with him. I feel the mental whiplash from his ever-changing moods and begin to anger as well.

I don't even try to speak to him, to explain the situation with Patch; that it was (obviously) innocent. One look into my mind will take care of that nonsense. I curl my fists, angry at him for my own reasons, and perfectly willing to let off some of my tension. At him.

I swing first, aiming for his jaw, but he ducks at the last second and grabs my other hand tightly, pulling me to him. I let out a cry of pain at the strength he uses; he makes it clear he will not go easy on me.

I throw my head back, slamming it into his own and hear him let out a grunt of pain. I spin out of his grasp, immediately kicking his legs out from under him. He recovers too quickly for me to inflict any real damage though; he is back on his feet in less than a second, blocking my punches and kicks.

"You could have told me you were leaving!" I shout between movements.

He blocks a kick from me. 'There was no time! I thought of taking you with me," he says, then pauses. "Now I wish I had," he adds bitterly.

No, I will not let him make me feel guilty over nothing. I continue to throw punches as he continues to block them; only twice do I land a blow - once to his shoulder, and once to his jaw. Blood trickles from his mouth and he spits it out, barely noticing.

Some small part of me is screaming at me to stop, to calm down, to talk this through like rational adults. But I ignore it, wanting to hurt him now as much as he has hurt me over the last ten days.

No, more than that. Over the last five months of my capture; the last four years of my life. I think of how many people he has stolen from me, how many doors he's slammed shut to my future so I could be a part of his. I feel something dark, sinister overtake me as I continue to throw myself at him, hoping to injure him, to leave him bleeding.

Just as he's done to me, over and over again.

I see a hunger in his eyes as we battle each other, communicating in a way that is, to us, as natural as breathing. The time on Naboo becomes a faded memory in this fight. This is how we are meant to be - at odds with each other, fighting on opposite sides. My light to his dark; my summer to his winter; my jedi to his sith clashing twice, a thousand times. How did I ever think we could make each other happy?

I feel myself slipping, losing ground. No matter my skill, my agility, he is bigger, heavier, stronger than me. And he is not holding back.

How I wish I had my light saber.

I continue to step back as my own movements become defensive, as he searches for a way past my blocks. I see him hesitate for a fraction of a moment, staring at me, perhaps contemplating his next move. He hasn't landed an offensive blow yet; only attempting to disarm me. To capture me. Again.

I swing my left fist at his waist, hoping to land a strong enough blow that it will knock the breath out of him. He grabs it before I make contact and pushes back , so that I slam forcefully into the wall behind me. I duck my shoulders, my head, trying to get out of his hold but he pushes me back against the wall, pinning my wrists next to my face. He breathes heavily and I take some satisfaction in knowing I'm not the only one worn out by this fight.

"How dare you," The venom in his voice is enough to paralyze me.

"How dare I what?" I shoot back. "Talk to one of my few friends on this forsaken ship? One who is _married_ , no less? Are you really so insecure that you would lose complete control over my friendship with a married man?"

I check his face for a reaction to this, but he betrays no emotion.

"All men grow lonely," he states.

"Oh don't you dare speak to me of loneliness, Kylo Ren!" I snap, feeling truly disgusted at his insinuation of Patch and me, especially after the time Kylo and I shared on Naboo. "How difficult would it have been for you to visit, just once, instead of kissing me and then abandoning me in the same breath!"

A moment of frustration. "I couldn't! I was on a mission for the Order -"

"This is about more than the blasted mission, Kylo!" I cannot stop myself from screaming at him, "Why are you putting me through this? Why are you keeping me from everyone except you?!"

"Why? You're asking me _why?!"_ He growls, and I see clouds of darkness return to his eyes, see the monster return to his features, the one that has been absent for so long. "After everything I did to get you here, after everything I've done to keep you here, how could you possibly not understand that _**you are mine?!**_ "

I breathe, one two three seconds.

"I don't belong to you," I whisper.

He lets out a humorless laugh. "You certainly don't belong to anyone else, _scavenger_." The affectionate term has turned to the harshest insult. I feel only shame as a tear escapes my eye, trickles down my cheek. He lets go of my wrist, for a moment, to catch the tear on his thumb before bringing it to his lips, tasting it. I feel bile rise in my throat. He brings his lips close mine but doesn't close the gap.

"You are mine, and you will always be mine," he breathes into my ear.

III. [Snoke]

From his own remote base the Supreme Leader watches their fight unfold, watches as their heated words are thrown as carelessly as their punches.

They have listened to his seeds of doubt, planted in their nightmares.

They are turning on each other.

Losing what little trust they've gained.

He smiles.

IV. [Kylo]

I leave her in the training rooms.

My only relief comes from knowing she's not hurt. It was never my intention to harm her, just to disarm, to make her listen. I'm still not sure if I accomplished my goal.

I begin to understand my grandfather's complete anger at his wife, at her betrayal just before she passed. How could someone so important, so necessary, betray me so harshly?

I cannot get the image of Tannis holding her out of my mind, and, though I am loathe to admit it, I cannot stop myself from seeing Tannis become Dameron, holding the one woman I've truly cared about so closely. I should be the one holding her that way. _And no one else._ The complete rage I felt at even imagining her with another man is certainly justified. She is mine.

I refuse to entertain the thought that I overreacted. This fight was coming anyway, the tensions between us since the kiss running high. Regardless of whether her relationship with Tannis is romantic or not, I am still infuriated that she would confide in him and not me.

I pull out my light saber, entering a random room and slashing it to pieces, until only the scars of what it used to be remain.

V. [Rey]

I stomp back to my rooms, worn out, upset, but otherwise unscathed.

We fought. We fought like a pair starving children over a loaf of moldy bread. I wince as I imagine what Master Luke would think - everything I did in that room went against all of his teachings.

How could someone as volatile as Kylo Ren make me lose my control like that? I cannot deny the sinister feelings that overtook me as we fought. Could my time here be affecting me more than I realize?

For the first time I let myself worry about Patch. Would Kylo go after him? Surely he will see that Patch did nothing wrong, was just comforting me in a moment of weakness…just as Kylo _should_ have done, if he really cares about me as he claims.

 _You are just a prize to be won._

I resist the urge to punch the wall and further injure my knuckles, instead biting my tongue as hard as I can to keep from shrieking. I taste blood in my mouth but ignore it.

I breathe in deeply, determined not to think on it for another moment. Troopers let me in my room and I seethe and pace. I try to remember every detail of my AT-AT on Jakku; of the many tools I used to fix the Falcon; of the buttons on Finn's jacket - or was it a zipper? I cannot remember now. But it doesn't matter. I just want to think of anything else. Anything but the horrific fight I just had with Kylo.

A knock on my door and my heart skips for a moment, thinking it must be Kylo. But no, it is just a trooper, bringing a meal. At least Ren hasn't resorted to starving me.

I bite the inside of my cheek when I realize it is the nervous trooper. I certainly do not have the patience to deal with him today.

It takes colossal self-restraint on my part to accept another napkin from him without screaming. He places the tray of food on the table and turns quickly to leave. I automatically feel for the stitched B - there it is, in the left corner, as always - and I cannot hold in my temper anymore.

"Stop!"

The trooper turns around abruptly, but makes no other moves, offers no words.

"I recognize these napkins," Is it just me, or does he stiffen at my words? "They all have the same letter on them, B." I watch for a reaction but he does nothing.

"Won't you speak to me? Tell me something," I beg. "What is your name? What are your responsibilities here, besides delivering meals? What is your favorite color?"

No response.

I sigh angrily and lift up my mattress, pulling out the other seven napkins. I hold them all up in front of him, crumpled in my hands.

"You know, I've received eight of these little B napkins so far and I would very much like to know why you're…."

I stop breathing for a moment as everything clicks into place.

Eight napkins.

Eight Bs.

BB-8.

My breath returns in shallow gulps as I remember the loyal droid, my first true friend. I scan the mask of the trooper, as if that would reveal anything.

"All this time, you've been sneaking these to me, waiting for me to understand..."

The trooper nods his head, ever so slightly.

A tear escapes, splashes on one of the napkins I'm still clutching so tightly.

"They told me you were dead," I whisper.

He shakes his head. _No._

I take a step forward. "Please, take off your helmet. I need to see…"

He reaches up, slowly grasping the edges and tugging off the helmet in one fluid motion. The shock of curly dark hair is longer than I remember, and his face is covered in many more scars than when last I saw him.

But it is him.

"Poe?"

* * *

 **AN: I promise this is still a Reylo fic! Stay with me! To be honest I am really nervous about this chapter. I rewrote it four times. Please leave me a review to let me know what you think. As for me, I really don't think that Rey and Kylo's relationship will be perfect after one perfect moment, if that makes sense. I think they both have a lot to still work through and they are both being tempted by the dark side. Kylo's biggest fear has been realized (in his mind) that Rey found someone better. And as far as their fight, the night is always darkest before the dawn, right? :) And...POE! I've been waiting on this since chapter 2, I'm so glad he can finally make his well-deserved debut!**


	8. Chapter 8

AN: Thanks for your follows, favorites and reviews! They mean so much to me! Enjoy chapter 8.

LadyMeraxes - Thank you for your review! With Reylo relationships taking longer and not being perfect, the only reply that seemed appropriate was Matt the Radar Technician when he said, "Yes, exactly. EXACTLY!" :)

Easypeezy Lemonsquezzy - Thank you so much for your kind words! They made my day!

ns241 - Thank you for your review! I so appreciate it! You are keeping me motivated!

Breann Hill - Your review made my day! I'm so happy you are enjoying the story! I always look forward to your thoughts!

Chapter 8

I. [Rey]

This isn't real.

It can't be.

My heart nearly bursts from its racing; every inch of my nerves are tensed; somewhere in some small recesses of my mind there is a logical voice stating this isn't happening, that we saw the wreckage from his crash. He couldn't have survived, let alone broken into the most secure ship in the galaxy and hide for months -

But I know better.

It really is him.

I sputter, trying to form a coherent thought but am completely lost at the sight of his face. He looks hesitant, as if he, too, cannot believe this moment is really happening. He places his helmet on the table gently before taking one hesitant step toward me.

I cannot move.

He reaches for me but pulls his hands back at the last second, as if asking for permission to touch me. A novel idea after so much time in captivity. Without any conscious acknowledgement from my mind, my hands reach toward him, and I dive into his arms. The feel of the armor is uncomfortable, cold; but I take great relief in his familiar scent, the warmth from his neck, his steady breathing.

He nearly crushes me in his embrace, clutching one hand in my hair while the other wraps around my waist. "Rey," he breathes. "I can't even begin to tell you how agonizing these months have been." I half laugh, half sob at the sound of his voice, so familiar yet so unpredictable here, in my prison among the First Order.

He grabs my arms and holds me at arm's length, examining me. "I had to keep myself hidden. I didn't want you to be held responsible in any way in case I was discovered. I've come to see you as often as I could, but it hasn't been enough," a tone of bitterness creeps into his voice. "How are you? Has he hurt you?"

I feel a strange jolt in my stomach at the mention of Kylo. A hundred memories with him over the last several months flood my head, and, at the forefront of my mind, the kiss on the beaches of Naboo and the way that I welcomed it, needed it as much as him, imagined where it could take us - the ugly fight in the training room, the way he fought me, the possessive look in his eyes -

 _Has he hurt you?_

I pull away from Poe, clasping my arms around myself as I hunch over, trying to breathe. What seemed so wonderful just weeks ago now seems like the most treacherous sin as I remember our awful fight, and worse yet as I stand in front of the man who surely would have won me in different circumstances.

 _Who still could,_ a little hopeful voice whispers to me.

I brush the hair from my face, straighten my back. I did nothing wrong, I try to convince myself. I thought Poe was dead. Survival has no rules.

I turn back to him, still reeling in the impossibility of it all. I mull over his question for less than a second, knowing that the longer I wait the more suspicious he will become.

"I'm fine," I whisper. It isn't at all true but it will have to do.

Poe looks me over, a slight crease to his brow as if searching for evidence to contradict my statement. He must choose to believe me though, because he says nothing as he ushers me onto the sofa.

The questions tumble from my mouth before we're even seated. "How are you here? How have you not be discovered? How is the Resistance, do you have any contact with them? How long have you been here? _Why didn't you tell me?!"_

I'm breathing heavily now, a mix of rage at his stupidity and gratitude at him being here with me. He sighs, leans back, pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Let me answer these as best I can. Settle in, Rey, this isn't gonna be all sunshine and cantinas."

I do as he instructs, and become the perfect listener.

"When my ship crashed for the second time, I knew for sure that I was dead," he begins. "The TIE-fighter hit my wing and I spiraled out of control, into the planet's atmosphere. Don't ask me which planet because I couldn't even begin to tell you. By some miracle I was ejected from the seat just before the cockpit blew to pieces; if I'd been in there even two seconds longer I would have been food for the birds."

My heart races at the thought but take great relief in knowing that is not what happened.

Poe continues, "I shrugged off a boot and the jacket of my uniform and threw them into the ship as a decoy, in case the Order came looking for me. I stayed hidden behind some boulders just a few yards from the crash for as long as I could, watching the TIE pilot search the wreckage for me. He must have been satisfied with the clothing because he left before too long. I used my communicator - luckily I had it on me and not in the ship - and reached out to the Resistance, telling them my whereabouts. Then I blacked out."

"So the Resistance found you, then?" I ask in a hushed whisper.

Poe chuckles bitterly. "No, slave traders did. They cleaned me up, set my broken bones, and sold me to the first buyer. The Hutts."

My eyes widen. "How did you get out?"

He spares me the surely gory details, merely explaining that he found his own freedom again, though it may have cost a few traders their lives.

"It wasn't long before an opportunity presented itself. Troopers roamed nearly every planet, looking for possible rebels. When I came across one about my size, I knocked him out, stole his uniform, and boarded the ship."

Brilliant. So incredibly simple. No doubt the arrogance of the First Order would keep it from even imagining the possibility, and consequently ways to prevent it.

"And you've been here ever since?" I ask.

"Yes, mainly doing janitorial work. I lucked out on that front, I'm not really in combat."

"How have you not been recognized?"

A small grin. "I've commandeered a small supply closet. Every time I come across a higher-up, I convince them I'm in someone else's division. So no one has noticed that I don't sleep where I'm assigned. I show up for shifts every day, no questions are asked after that."

"A rogue," I smile, before my mind turns to more serious matters.

"And the Resistance?" I breathe, my voice breaking. "Leia? Finn? Alive or dead?"

He sighs in relief, seemingly happy to have good news. "Both alive. Finn is in the Outer Rim, recruiting. Leia's exact location is secret but I know how to get that information when the time comes. She still leads the Resistance. She hasn't lost hope."

I nod then pause. "Why did you wait so long to tell me? You've been here for months…"

"Seven months, twelve days. Eighteen hours."

I swallow uncomfortably. "Why did you wait, Poe?"

He shifts, then speaks in a rough whisper. "I told myself I wasn't going to touch you, that I would be better than Kylo Ren and let you be. But I don't think I can stop myself." He reaches for my hand and I let him take it, not caring a moment about his hesitation, just grateful that he is alive.

"I waited, Rey," he says after a moment, "Because I needed an escape plan. I think I finally have one."

* * *

An escape.

The impossible hope; the elusive butterfly that is always just out of my grasp, mocking me.

 _Escape_.

My heart quickens and I feel an energy pulse through my veins as I think of the possible freedom waiting for me, if I can just get out of here. I won't answer to anyone anymore. No more being trapped in this room, no more feeling useless, no more boredom, waiting for something to happen -

No more training sessions with the squad who have grown to be my friends. No more conversations with Patch.

No more Kylo.

I feel the smallest twinge in my chest and I hate myself for it. I mean nothing to him, and even if I did, Kylo is a monster. His reaction and aggression just an hour ago proves that completely. Leaving would be the best thing, for both of us.

I turn to Poe. "What is your plan?"

Again, Poe proves to be brilliant in his simplicity.

It took him several months, but eventually he was promoted to repairing ships in the loading docks. Several days ago he snuck into a loading dock and broke one of the ship's engines. He's returned every day since under the pretense of repairing it, while also learning as much as he can about the ship.

Tonight, during mid-night rotations, he'll come for me, claiming that I am needed by Kylo Ren.

With that guise we will detour toward Kylo's rooms before heading to the loading dock. Poe says there is a janitorial corridor from Kylo's wing to the docks that is rarely used, so we should be safe to take that route.

In the loading dock, which he assures me will be empty, (as he's been there every night over the last week and it's only busy during waking hours) we will steal the ship and exit before anyone has any idea what is going on.

We go over every detail, from the mechanics of the ship to the likeliness of seeing anyone to what I should wear for the journey. It feels like hours of planning but Poe has worked it out so thoroughly that we only converse for thirty minutes.

I cannot help but notice that he begins to glance at the door every few seconds.

"You're not supposed to be here, are you?" I ask, looking for confirmation to my suspicions.

He deflates. "No, I'm only supposed to drop off your food and return to my division. They'll be looking for me soon."

I feel the panic rising up in my throat. I just barely got him back, only to have to send him off into enemy territory again; I won't do it, I'll find a way -

As if sensing my unease, he pulls me across the sofa and into his arms. He breathes in the scent of my hair before placing a gentle kiss on my forehead.

"I swear to you Rey, I will get you out of here."

I breathe him in, wanting so much to believe him, so desperately angry at myself that I need help in the first place. I nod, blinking quickly to avoid any tears. Poe mutters about being discovered, and replaces his helmet.

At the last moment before his exit, he turns to me again, where I am still frozen on the couch.

"Remember, Rey, please be careful." His voice is menacing through the helmet. "I'm not the only spy here."

II. [General Hux]

I smooth my uniform, knowing there are no creases - but image is everything. A General must always be in control. My boots click smartly on the cold floor as I head toward the meeting room with the Supreme Leader. I cannot help but feel boastful that he has called me in privately, telling me in no uncertain terms that Ren was not supposed to know of this meeting.

I walk swiftly across the bridge, standing at the platform awaiting Lord Snoke's hologram. It blinks into view and immediately his sunken eyes find mine.

I bow my head immediately. "Sir," I begin. "How can I be of assistance?"

I keep my eyes on the ground as his image takes two breaths, long and slow. Finally he speaks.

"Lord Ren is slipping from me."

I snap my head up. He brought me here to discuss the _spoiled commander?_ Immediately I clear my thoughts. I know the far reach of Snoke's anger and want none of that to ever fall on me.

"His loyalties are shifting," he continues. "To the scavenger."

I cannot keep my lip from curling at the mention of the wretched girl. How could someone so completely inconsequential turn one of the highest leaders in the First Order into some addled, lovesick idiot? It is no secret the amount of time he spends with her, how he fawns over his little prisoner.

Again I clear my thoughts sheerly out of self-preservation, though I cannot stop myself from offering my own solution to the problem.

"Should I dispose of her?"

A stern glance is directed at me and I will myself to not hunch my shoulders in shame.

"No," replies Snoke slowly. "On the contrary, I want you to watch over her."

I balk, despite the circumstances. Watch over the _scavenger_? I'm the General of the First Order! How could I possibly be expected to -

"Silence, _General_ Hux. Your thoughts are aggravating me."

I bite my tongue and will my mind to nothingness.

"She is much too powerful to lose," Snoke continues. "A necessary evil. Ren and Rey will produce the greatest generation of sith the galaxy has ever seen. Our every cause will be secure; we will be unstoppable and eternal peace will be brought to the galaxy at our hands."

I want to vomit at the thought of Ren reproducing, but instead nod to show my understanding. I offer nothing else.

"I have waited for Ren to turn her to the Dark Side, but he has failed. She is pulling him to the Light, where he will lose his power, his control, his very purpose," He breathes, his voice raspy. "I have tried to separate them, to keep them from growing too close without my influence. I believe I have been successful."

A slight cough, and he continues. "It is time for Ren to complete his journey to the Dark Side. I will send him on a mission that will guide his allegiance back to me. There is a Resistance spy here, under the guise of a storm trooper. Ren is too blinded by the scavenger that he cannot sense it. She will try to escape with the spy, and soon. You are to prevent that from happening, at all costs."

"Yes sir," I state, in as clear a voice as I am able. A spy is here, in our midst? How long has this been kept from me? I cannot deny the rolling anger at the idea of playing caretaker to Ren's pet. But I relish the thought in finding the Resistance rat and destroying him.

"We've nothing else to discuss. You are dismissed."

Before I can answer, Snoke's image has disappeared. I raise my chin, turn on my heel, and leave with as much dignity as I can muster, even though there is no one there to see it.

A General must always be in control.

III. [Rey]

The hours feel like months. I have done nothing since Poe left me but pace around my room, run my hands through the waterfall, nibble at some food. Mindless activities that cannot keep me occupied.

I keep running through the escape plan in my mind, sure that we have forgotten something. I refuse to allow myself to wonder if this is really what I want - to leave, to return to the Resistance, to finish with Poe what I've begun with Kylo.

My heart twists painfully and I grab my chest as if that will be enough to calm it, to tell it that it is a traitor to the rest of me.

But I cannot deny, no matter how hard I try, no matter how often I remind myself of the horrific things he's done, that I care for Kylo.

And that leaving him will be devastating.

But this is about more than just me. This is for the Resistance, for the Galaxy. This is so no child has to endure what I did. Those things are more important than what I want.

Or need.

Vaguely I run through the day's events - it has felt more like a year. How could I have been training with Patch just this morning? I chuckle sadly as I remember his prediction, that I was well on my way to becoming Lady Ren. Just a few hours ago it seemed probable. Now I believe that this cannot be further from the truth. I feel my heart crack, right down the middle, splitting myself into two halves who long for different lives.

 _I'm being torn apart._

Perhaps Kylo and I are more alike than I thought.

* * *

AN: I hate to end it here but this was turning into a monstrous chapter so I decided to split it. Next one is mostly written and should be up soon. Leave me a review and let me know what you thought!


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks for the reviews, favorites and follows! Enjoy chapter 9. I drew heavily from Shadow and Bone for one part of this chapter, all credit to the author.

Chapter 9

I. [Rey]

I decide it would look suspicious if I didn't go to sleep at my normal time, so I force myself to lie down, to be still. I close my eyes, counting the rocks on Luke's island in my mind, the number of shells on the beach during low tide. I count the flowers on the balcony at Naboo, the number of times Kylo pulled me close to swim, the number of seconds he kissed me -

 _Stop it, Rey!_ I scold myself. _You've made your choice. You're leaving and you're not coming back._

I'm not sure how long I've been lying in bed - a few hours at least; it must be the middle of the night - when I hear the click of my door sliding open. I sit up immediately, my heart pounding. Poe is really here; I'm truly escaping.

"Poe?" I call out to the darkness.

The footsteps stop abruptly. "Poe?" A voice speaks, sounding indignant. "Poe is long gone. You must have been dreaming."

My pounding heart drops into my stomach.

Kylo, unmasked, still in his black uniform, takes a step closer to me. His hair is disheveled, as if he has run his fingers through it out of frustration at least a hundred times today. He looks exhausted; even in the small amount of light in the room I can see the purple shadows beneath his eyes.

I cannot stop myself from feeling amazed that I can focus on such inconsequential details when my fate hangs in the balance.

What is Kylo doing here so late? I feel the panic rising up in my throat. Does he know our plan?

 _He might now, you idiot,_ an annoying voice in my head snaps. _You called him Poe._

"Yes, I must have been dreaming," I stutter, stumbling over my words, "Poe is in them often." Not a complete lie. Still, I block my mind as quickly and forcefully as I can. It takes great effort but in a stroke of luck, I don't feel Kylo prying into my head.

"Yes," Kylo replies dryly, "I am well aware."

I hardly hear him, my emotions changing rapidly from panic and guilt to indignance and anger.

"What in the blazes are you doing in my room in the middle of the night?" I hiss. "Were you so dissatisfied with losing yet another battle with me that you're coming back when I am still riddled with sleep?" A complete lie - I haven't slept a wink- but I hope my words will derail him.

"It was a draw, at best," he answers, referring to the fight. He waits, almost a full minute. When he finally speaks there is a stiffness in his voice. "I come here often, to watch you sleep."

I suck in a breath, once again taken completely off-guard. How does this wretched man always know exactly how to unhinge me?

I avert my gaze, not wanting to have this conversation, not wanting to make things good again because it will make leaving that much harder.

Leaving- escaping - Poe will be here any minute!

My mind whirs as I think of how to get Kylo out of the room and back to his as quickly as possible. A plan forms, and though I don't relish it, it's the only fool-proof thing I can think of.

I swing my feet over the edge of the bed and walk gingerly toward Kylo. "Why do you come to watch me sleep?"

I stand as close to him as I dare before reaching for his hand. His skin feels cool, rough. I draw him to me.

"It's when you're the most beautiful," he breathes, staring me down. We are both intoxicated.

"Rey, about today…" He starts, hesitating. "I'm sorry. You're right, I should trust you more. Please forgive me."

It would have been more merciful for him to take his saber and thrust it into my chest. Here he is, speaking of forgiveness and trust, when I know full well that in just minutes I am going to destroy that trust forever.

I swallow down the immense guilt, convincing myself this is for the best.

I clear my throat. "Kylo," I begin, drawing circles on the back of his hand with my thumb. "I do forgive you. But I'm still upset with how you reacted."

I take a breath. This next point is crucial, the words that will convince him to do anything I ask. I push them out quickly before I change my mind like a complete coward. It's for the best.

"If you really expect us to be married, today cannot happen again."

There it is, the perfect weapon. I watch his eyebrows lift, his jaw drop. With the mention of marriage, he becomes clay in my hands, ready to be molded into whatever I might need. I know it is a low blow, the lowest I could deal, but I am desperate in this moment.

Survival has no rules.

"I'll work on it," he offers quickly, snatching up my bait. "I can't help but feel...protective of you."

 _Possessive seems a more appropriate word,_ I think sourly, but I nod, bring my lips to his cheek.

"I'm exhausted," I say. "I need to rest. And no doubt you do as well."

He nods, pulls me even closer for a hug. I count his heartbeats, praying he will be long gone before Poe arrives. Kylo plants a sweet kiss on my forehead before whispering goodnight and leaving.

I collapse on the bed, absolutely disgusted with myself.

* * *

Poe arrives twenty minutes later, in his uniform. He only offers a quick hug before turning, whispering urgently that we need to get going. The rotation is almost over; we have only a few minutes before the security will be back up completely.

He grabs my elbow and somewhat drags me down the hall. The show is useless, however, as we see no one. He marches me quickly toward Kylo's quarters, "to keep up the illusion," he mutters. My throat feels tighter with each step and I pray that Kylo stays in his rooms. I cannot handle him and my own deceit in this moment.

We reach Kylo's wing, still seeing no one. At one point, just before we cross into the troopers' back corridor, I feel the hair stand on my arms.

 _Someone is watching you._

I turn around quickly, fists curled, prepared for anything. No one is there, but I cannot shake the feeling that someone is following us. I begin to walk the way we came, searching for the invisible follower but Poe grabs my arm and pulls me back.

"Are you crazy?" He hisses through his helmet. "We're almost there! Stay focused."

I bite my tongue at his tone but nod. He is under incredible stress, I understand that. He's just trying to get us out of here.

Within minutes we arrive at the loading bay. It does not look familiar to me, nor do any of the ships. I pray in Poe's piloting skills. He grabs my hand, leading me to the furthest ship. There are only minimal lights on; no troopers around. It is eerily quiet, our footsteps echoing across the vast expanse of the bay. We reach the small ship in the last line of the assembly and he sets me in front of him, placing his hands on my waist to help me climb up.

It should be the furthest thing from my mind, but I notice that his hands don't turn my skin to flames like Kylo's do.

Within seconds I am in the cockpit. My eyes roam over the dash, committing it to memory as best I can. Two pilots are better than one. I see a button that looks unfamiliar and turn to my left, prepared to ask Poe what it is the second he enters the ship.

But he doesn't come.

I wait for two, three, five seconds. He should have been here by now. Perhaps he's shedding his trooper armor? Yes, that must be it. I scurry back to the entrance, prepared to tell him to hurry the blazes up, when, for the second time, that night, my throat tightens to the point that I cannot breathe.

Poe is standing in front of the ship, tensed, watching a group of troopers and officers, even General Hux, rush toward us.

But my eyes glaze over this crowd, focusing on the man dressed in black who lingers near the bay entrance, unmoving.

Kylo Ren.

II. [Poe]

Well, this is just great.

Only in my own personal hell would I be _this close_ to escaping with Rey when Kylo Ren and cronies show up. I swear, how did I sneak down here at least thirty times undetected and the first time I actually take extra precautions is when I get screwed over by Ren? If I didn't have half a dozen blasters pointed at me, I would punch him right in the face.

I turn toward Rey, urging at her to return to the cockpit and go.

"Are you crazy?!" She asks, starting to climb down. "I'm not leaving without you!"

"If you don't leave now, you're not leaving at all. Don't waste this chance!"

"No, you're coming with me."

"Listen Rey," I say through gritted teeth, "The worst thing they can do to me is kill me. I've seen the way Kylo Ren looks at you and trust me, there are much worse things than death."

She pales but stands her ground.

I let out a groan of frustration at her stubbornness and reach for her. I don't care if I have to throw her in and press the right combination to fling her into space, she is leaving.

Too late.

The First Morons are upon us and before I can react I am in the trooper's holds. I clench my teeth as I see them do the same to Rey.

There is a moment of stillness, heavy with tension as Kylo heads toward me. He doesn't have his mask on, surprisingly. I haven't seen his face in years. It looks the same; he hasn't changed much since we were kids - except for the thin scar running across his features. I smirk as I remember who put it there.

His eyes flick over my uniform - I removed my helmet several minutes ago, thinking we were in the clear - and a look of superiority crosses his face.

"Let me make this perfectly clear, Dameron. I talk first."

I open my mouth to make a sarcastic retort but he lands a punch to the side of my face. I feel blood pooling in my mouth and spit it at him but he dodges it. I'll give him that - he was always faster than me.

But that was about it.

The troopers search me then straighten me up again. Kylo's hand is twitching, a sure sign he is looking for his lightsaber. "In fact, I think I'll be the only one talking. Got it?"

I stay silent, knowing he will see it for what it truly is - defiance, not compliance.

I chance a quick look at Rey - she seems all right. The troopers' hold on her is much more relaxed than the one they have on me. I try to make eye contact, try to message in some crazy way that I'll make a distraction if she'll just fight and run, but she's frozen in place. Only her eyes move, darting back and forth from Kylo to me.

"I must say, Dameron," he begins, "I'm impressed. You just won't die, no matter what we do."

I inwardly groan, knowing Kylo's flair for the dramatics. It shouldn't matter in this moment, when I am surely going to be killed any second, but the last thing I want to hear in my life is the sound of this blockhead making some speech about victory, justice, yadda yadda.

He reaches for his lightsaber. "I think it's time we correct our errors, don't you?"

I keep my eyes locked on his. I'm not afraid of him, or this fate. "At least I'll die with some honor. Not everyone in this room can say that."

He roars and ignites his lightsaber.

"Ren!" Hux shouts, leading Kylo to stop his saber. "Don't kill him yet! He's been in our ranks for who knows how long -"

"Seven months," I offer smugly, which earns me a seething glare from Hux.

"He is a liability. Don't be an idiot, Ren. Keep the girl if you must but this scum needs to be interrogated, immediately."

I turn to Hux, completely indignant. " _Scum?"_

I can tell Kylo has grown tired of our exchange and doesn't give a flying Wookie what Hux thinks. He once again raises his saber. I don't flinch -

But Rey does.

"No!" She screams, pulling from the troopers' hold. "Don't kill him!"

Kylo pauses but doesn't turn to look at her. I still have to pick my jaw up off the floor at the fact that someone can get through to him. "Give me one good reason why," he growls.

She hesitates, blinking furiously, as if to hold back tears.

"I have a bargain for you!" she shouts.

III. [Rey]

He finally turns around, slowly, to look at me. I take a deep breath, then speak.

"I will make you a bargain, Kylo," My voice is shaking with fear and regret but I push through. "I will marry you, of my own free will, today. I won't make any more escape attempts, I will stay by your side. But you have to let Poe go. You cannot take away his memory, and you cannot follow him, with troopers or trackers."

I see the rage rolling off of his shoulders. He is turning back to look at Poe; there is little time to act.

"But if you don't," I shout, capturing his attention once more. "If you don't agree to these terms, and you kill him, I will never stop fighting you. I will never stop trying to escape. You will always be my enemy."

I see him pause, consider my words, weighing his options. Which does he long for more - my acquiescence or Poe's death? I pray for the former.

"The pilot goes," he finally breathes.

There is a sound of annoyance from Hux. "Clearly your judgement has been compromised," he states. "I'll deal with the prisoner's interrogation and execution."

"No!" I yell. "You have to let him go!"

"Rey," interjects Poe, "I would rather die a hundred times than know you're marrying Ren because of me." He turns to Hux. "I will gladly go into custody if you let the girl go."

"Poe you complete idiot, stop this!"

"Enough!" Booms Kylo, instantly silencing the rest of us. "As touching as it is to watch your revolting devotion to each other, neither of you have the power to make this decision. Nor do you, Hux. As Commander of the First Order, the fate of prisoners falls to me."

He turns to look at me once more, and I take that as another chance to make my plea.

"Will you accept, Kylo?" I nearly whisper. "Will you accept the bargain?"

Poe begins kicking, flailing, screaming at me to reconsider. "Everything I've done was to get you out of here! You can't chain yourself to a madman, Rey! I won't let you!"

I force myself to become numb to everything - Poe's resistance, Kylo's possessive look, even the way my hair, damp with sweat, clings to the back of my neck. My heart cannot continue to break if I don't feel anything at all.

The lightsaber retracts. Kylo stalks toward me - I look in his eyes and instantly regret it. There is no trace of the kindness I found on Naboo. This man is all rage, all monster.

 _What have I done?_

He puts his lips close to my ear, so only I can hear his words. "You deserve much better; I know that. But I am a selfish man. And I need you." I stare at the ground, making no movement.

He straightens, raising the level of his voice once again. "Yes," his deep voice runs over me like cold water, drowning me. "I accept the bargain."

For the slightest moment I feel the conflict within myself. Part of me wanted to stay with Kylo, I must be truthful about that - but I never wanted it to be like this. I fight back the shadows, the despair, try to be strong for Poe. This is all for him. If I do nothing else in this half-life, at least I'll know that I saved him.

Kylo turns to the troopers, though I barely register it. "The pilot will leave and not be followed. Rey will be taken to my rooms."

He says this last line with his eyes on Poe, clearly provoking him. He is not disappointed as Poe erupts in complete anger. "If you lay a single hand on her I will kill you, Ben!"

Kylo shows no reaction to his birth name, his voice completely emotionless. "She is no longer your concern, Dameron."

"Why are you agreeing to this, Rey?" He asks, a pleading look on his face.

"I'm doing what I have to in order to keep you safe," I reply, and I try to ignore the breaking emotion in my voice.

Poe deflates in the troopers hold, knowing he's lost and refusing to make eye contact with me. "Fine," he relents. "But the Resistance will come back for her, mark my words."

"Consider them marked," Kylo waves a hand dismissively. It does not escape me that Poe said the _Resistance_ would come back, and not him. I feel my heart crack again. How many times will I have to endure that pain before my heart shatters all together?

Kylo turns to the set of troopers behind me. "Escort the girl to my rooms. Make sure she is supervised every moment until I get there." They nod, then grab my arms and begin to march me back toward the entrance of the bay.

As we pass by, Kylo grabs my arm gently, stopping me. He leans down whispers in my ear my own words from just a few hours ago in a mocking tone. "If you really expect us to be married, today cannot happen again."

The last thing I see before we exit the bay is a seething Kylo stalking toward a defiant, shackled Poe.

IV. [Kylo]

Several hours ago, marriage was swirling in my mind, but not like this.

When I went into her room, I was shocked to find her awake. I nearly retreated, but she'd already seen me by then - or so I thought.

When I heard the pilot's name pass through her lips I wanted to destroy everything in that room.

I was not entirely truthful when I explained I was just there to watch her sleep. I came to apologize, angry at both of us - but mostly myself - for how the day's events had gone. I was completely exhausted; I hadn't slept in almost two days. But I had to correct things with her before anything as mundane as sleep was possible. When she mentioned marriage, I was shocked but pleased. Perhaps she was finally coming around, as Snoke predicted so many months ago.

Now I know better.

Asking for Poe - that wasn't just a dream.

Talking of marriage - that was just deceit, a ploy to make me do whatever she needed - which, in that moment, was to exit so her precious pilot could take her away.

I felt my own rage as only thirty minutes later I found myself outside her door once more, a nagging feeling to see her again, when to my surprise I found Hux exiting her room.

"She's not here," he explained shortly. "She's with a rogue trooper."

"How do you know this?" I asked, fury building in my chest.

"I've been monitoring her closely, just as a precaution. I...thought something like this might happen. They're headed toward Bay 213 - "

I spun on my heel before he finished his sentence.

I reached the loading bay but stood by the door, feeling nothing but sickening betrayal as I watched Poe help her into a ship.

I felt completely out of control; I couldn't stop them, could only stare. Something in me, something pulled tight over the last several weeks, snapped at the sight of her escaping from me, of choosing a different path, after _just_ speaking of a life with me - not that wretched pilot.

I bared my teeth and stalked toward Dameron.

I swore to myself that he would die tonight.

* * *

I watch Rey exit with the troopers, constantly whipping her head back to watch Poe and me. I wait until she is completely out of the bay before dismissing everyone except for the two troopers holding Dameron. Hux is indignant but eventually leaves as well.

When the bay is empty, I turn back to Dameron, eyes roaming over his imposter uniform.

"So," I begin. "You killed an innocent man simply for the clothes on his back?" I incline my head to the white armor.

"No," he spits. "Just knocked him out. We aren't all barbarians like you, Ben."

I clench my fist at the casual use of my birth name. "Ben is long dead, Dameron. But I do hold some of his childhood memories. Let me share one with you. Why don't you settle in, this will take a while." I nod to the troopers and they force him to his knees. He lets out a grunt of pain but otherwise remains impassive.

"You'll remember when I was a small boy - no more than four or five - and my attachment to a toy ship. A miniature of the Falcon, given to me by my father. One of the only presents I ever received," I add bitterly. "It was my favorite toy for months, I took it everywhere with me, until a certain young boy, orphaned during a raid, came to stay with us. Who was that, Dameron? Do you remember?"

I receive a glare at my condescending tone but he answers. "It was me."

"That's right. And you instantly took a liking to that ship. My parents demanded that I give it to you, because you had _nothing._ This one toy would make you so happy - you wanted to be a pilot when you were older - and I had so many other toys, why not share this one with you? No matter how much I argued, fought, pleaded, it didn't matter. You took my ship. Do you remember that?"

"No."

"Pity," I add, emotionless. "It didn't end there, though, did it Poe? My entire childhood was you taking things from me - least of all my mother and father."

"I didn't take anything -"

"Silence!" I roar. "And then, after years of your impetuous worming into my life, you have the _audacity_ to come here, to my home, and try to take her from me."

We both know exactly who I mean.

"You took everything that should have been mine," I growl at him. "But you won't take her. I will marry her, and make her forget you ever existed."

"You're psychotic," he spits at me.

I chuckle. "Well, that's unfortunate for you, because my dear Rey, in her valiant attempt to save your pathetic life, forgot one crucial aspect to our little bargain."

For the first time, he pales.

"She said to let you escape; to leave your memory intact; to not follow you. I intend to follow through on those things. Terrible way to begin a marriage, lying to your wife, don't you think?"

He spits at me again. I merely smile.

"But she forgot to mention that you were to leave unharmed."

A bead of sweat rolls down his temple.

I grab his left hand. "Now, pilot, this is your shooting hand, isn't it? I don't think there's any need for that."

I ignite my saber and take what little revenge I can.

AN: This is Star Wars! Somebody's got to lose a hand! And seriously pissed off Kylo, in the throes of the Dark Side!


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: I apologize for the long wait! I developed a cold over Labor Day weekend and it's turned into bronchitis/pneumonia. But I'm finally improving, hooray!**

 **Thank you thank you thank you for your wonderful reviews! They all just made my week. I am so appreciative, and thrilled that so many people are enjoying the story! Enjoy this next chapter and do let me know what you think!**

Chapter 10

I. [Rey]

Kylo's rooms are a surprise.

The troopers lead me quickly to his door, shoving me inside and following behind. They stand in front of the entrance, blasters in hand, as if daring me to cross them. I resist the urge to roll my eyes at them, or play a mind-trick just to see if I can. This is not the moment for rash actions, not with Kylo in such a state.

We stand in the front room - the only place I'm sure guests are received - and it is just what I would expect from the dark prince. There are grey walls, with shadowed ceilings and low light. Stiff, formal furniture; no decorations.

I move further in - the troopers don't stop me - and what I don't expect is the - well - _lived-in_ look in the large interior sitting room.

In a strange way it reminds me of my own shelter on Jakku. There are old books on shelves; trinkets tucked into empty spaces on tables. There are extra clothes strewn about as if he carelessly undresses each day. A half-eaten piece of fruit is lying on the table that is adjacent to a charcoal-colored sofa. The sofa is covered in blankets - did he sleep here instead of his bed? - and a small droid is tucked into a corner, silent.

There are two doors on either end of the far wall. I do not open either one of them, afraid of discovering his bedroom.

Instead I sink into the couch, already deciding to not touch anything; I have no idea what sort of mood he'll be in when he gets back. The chances of him taking me into his arms and kissing me are about equal to him walking in and Force-choking me.

It feels like days but really is no more than twenty minutes before I hear the door to the hallway open; hear him ask the troopers where I am, then dismiss them. My heart pounds in time to the sound of his boots on the slick floor, bringing him ever closer.

I stiffen, call out to the Force, trying to prepare myself for whatever is coming. But I am exhausted. I have not slept in almost a day and I can barely keep my eyes focused, let alone use the required energy to defend myself.

I clench my hands, resting in my lap. I raise my eyes, hold my breath, and wait for his entrance.

He stops just for a moment when he sees me, before turning toward a table where he takes off the outer layers of his clothes, sets his lightsaber down.

The words are out before I can stop myself. "Is he all right?"

A bitter laugh escapes his laugh. "Of course that's all that matters to you."

" _Is he all right?"_ I repeat, my voice becoming steel.

"Go back to your rooms, Rey."

"No," I sputter, surprised. "I just signed my life away to you and I deserve to know what is going on!"

He runs a gloved hand through his hair, habit I now recognize stems from frustration. "Troopers are waiting outside. Go back to your rooms. I'll see you in the morning."

"Don't act like you're the victim in this, Kylo," I hiss at him. "We both know better."

I shove past him, stopping only when the troopers regain their hold on me in the corridor. I hang my head, make my voice sound sorrowful. "Lord Ren wants me to be taken back to my old cell." They offer no words or acknowledgement other than heading in the opposite direction, toward the prisoners' wing. I know that this is petty, but I don't want to return to my rooms as he commanded. I want to defy him in some small way.

II. [Poe]

The flight back is brutal. My arm, cut at the wrist, seems to have been cauterized by the lightsaber, so there's no blood. No, just an intense, makes-me-want-to-turn-around-and-blow-up-the-destroyer kind of pain.

But the pain in my arm is nothing compared to the pain of leaving Rey.

I slam my good hand against the co-pilot's chair, where she should be sitting - but she's not because I failed. I failed and I can't fix it. My insides feel like ice as I remember her bargain - Honestly, couldn't she have offered something less permanent than _marriage_?! - and his greedy look as he accepted. I press the cannon with my good hand, blasting a nearby asteroid into oblivion simply to soothe my own frustration.

If he wasn't Leia's son….

... _or Rey's husband..._

I nearly spin the ship out of control, the idea is so repulsive to me. I know the best I can do for her is return to the Resistance, form a plan to get her back. I'll be back within a week. I spare a glance at my severed wrist.

Even if it kills me, I will go back for her.

III. [Rey]

The next morning I awake with a sharp pain in my neck and a burning in my eyes from poor sleep. I'm sitting up, leaning against the wall with my legs bent in front of me. Until now I did not realize how much I've grown used to my rooms, my soft bed and soothing waterfall. The sting of this cell is deeper than before, but I asked to be put here - already an improvement from the first time around.

"Finally. You're awake."

I turn to the voice, finding a masked Kylo Ren on the other side of the bars.

This is hauntingly familiar.

I rest my elbows on my knees, turning my head away from his looming figure. I don't bother to respond.

"I must admit it took me awhile to find you. I finally had to track down the troopers who escorted you last night and get the story from them - they were understandably shocked at my confusion. It appears you orchestrated this yourself...and I have to ask why."

When I say nothing, he sighs in frustration. "You're being a little dramatic, don't you think?"

"What difference does it make?" I bite back. "Whether here or on a throne, I'm still you're prisoner."

I hear nothing for several seconds, then the cell bars slide open.

I hear his helmet drop, hear him slide down next to me, hear his slightly uneven breathing.

I chance a quick look at him, only to find his posture identical to mine - leaning against the wall, his elbows resting on his bent knees.

"I cannot tell you the number of times I've wished that we met under different circumstances."

"If those circumstances hadn't happened, we never would have met at all," I retort. "I'm just a scavenger, remember? You never fail to remind me."

He lets out a half laugh, half sigh, turning his head toward me. I mirror him, and find myself looking in his eyes. I feel myself, in spite of everything, wanting to be close to him; needing him. Is it wrong, with everything that's happened? Or is it just fate, was this always meant to be? My heart twists and I stop myself from thinking.

"You're much more than that, and we both know it," he says, so softly I barely hear him. "You have no idea of the hold you have over me."

"That doesn't excuse what you've done."

"No, it doesn't," he says quietly. "I'm not a good man."

"You could be," I whisper.

"No, Rey," he sighs, and seems to age a thousand years. "You're the only good thing in my life that's left."

I can't deny it, so I say nothing.

He stands, grabs his helmet.

"Everything for the ceremony has been arranged. Droids will be here shortly to help you prepare. I'll see you after awhile."

"All right."

"Rey - I can't say I'm sorry. Not yet. I've wanted this for...well, since I met you. I hope, in time, you'll want this too."

I close my eyes, feel a single tear escape. I let it roll down my cheek, don't bother to brush it away. I can't admit that some part of me wants this _now -_ I push that part down, remembering Poe, Finn, the Resistance, the light side of the Force. What they need from me is more important than what I want.

He replaces his mask, leaves the cell door open.

"Take all the time you need."

* * *

I move in a fog. Time passes and I find myself in a shower, being scrubbed thoroughly by droids. They rinse and dry my hair within minutes, until it is transformed into glossy dark curls. They leave it down, only pinning back a few locks to uncover my face . I'm painted with oils and powders, which emphasize my eyes and lashes. Finally they dress me in a red and gold gown, with thin sleeves that hang off the shoulder, a tight bodice, and a small train. They bring a headpiece, intricate layers of gold intertwined with jewels, and place it atop my head. This is by far the most exquisite clothing I've ever worn. Clearly for a special occasion.

Like a wedding.

I startle when I see myself in the mirror; I hardly recognize my reflection. I look like some ancient goddess, aloof and unattainable, valued only for beauty and power. Not words I would ever have used to describe myself - words like loyal; resilient; clever.

But I suppose that is not what the First Order is interested in for its would be queen.

An hour flies by as if it were only a minute. I am escorted to a small room toward the back of the ship, somewhere I have never been before. I enter and there is a man, his age evident in the grey hairs at his temple and the thin lines around his eyes. I feel ill when I recognize the robes he wears; he is an officiator for the First Order, keeper of the archives and recorder of events. He is here to marry Kylo and me. The thought makes me want to faint but -

It doesn't matter now. I've made my choice. My life for Poe's.

"Ah, my lady," he says congenially, as if we were just sitting down to share a drink in a cantina. "This is a cause for celebration. The commander, finding his equal at last." he says grandly. I nearly laugh when he says "equal;" clearly he is unaware of how this ceremony came to be.

The door slides open and two officers enter; one looks completely bored and the other looks terrified. I conclude they must be the witnesses - isn't that a part to every wedding ceremony? Other people watching it?

The officiator attempts to make awkward small talk with the three of us but it quickly panders out. My mind is elsewhere and I cannot reel it back. Not for anything.

Ten minutes pass before the door slides open once more. It seems to move more slowly this time, as if it is trying to protect me from the man that is on the other side. But it fails, just like I did, just like Poe did, and Kylo comes for me anyway.

I hear the click of his heavy boots on the floor; his purposeful, even strides, exuding confidence. I bristle when I realize he has his mask on. I'm about to protest this when he grabs my hand, firmly, and leads me to stand beside him in front of the officiator.

"I want no pomp," Kylo says, almost sounding bored. "Finish the ceremony as quickly as possible."

The officiator nods, looking nervous for the first time, and delivers a short speech about devotion, loyalty, and trust. I bite my tongue at this. I've betrayed Kylo and he's betrayed me. What a sham this is already turning out to be.

In less than five minutes we are legally wed. We sign a document, as do the officers, and the ceremony is finished. No dancing, no singing, toasting, or celebrating. Just cold, calm movements, all the emotion removed.

I stand, dumbfounded, as the officiator takes the now signed record, bows to Kylo. He addresses us by title, Lord and Lady Ren, and leaves.

The officers are quick to follow, leaving me alone with a masked Kylo Ren. I sense his eyes on me through the mask. I think of a thousand things I want to say, and a thousand ways I could say them, but something is holding me back. Instead I raise myself to my full height, lift my chin and meet his gaze as best I can. I wait for a chuckle, a decree of his victory, even him ripping off the mask and kissing me passionately, because he finally has a legal right to do so. But he does none of those things.

He simply turns around, walks out the way he came.

Leaving me utterly alone.

* * *

The first several hours of my life as a married woman are spent in near solitude. After exiting the officiating room (one I will never enter again, if I can help it), I head toward the archives for something to do. My usual escort of storm troopers are with me, though they keep a respectful distance behind. There is no reason for them to follow, as I see it. I couldn't get anywhere in this tent of a dress. Just the cost of this one item must be worth half the economy on Jakku.

The only words I utter in those first few hours are a request for dinner; a trooper leaves and returns with it in twenty minutes, carrying simple but delicious fare. I am pleasantly surprised that Ren has not requested me for dinner.

But I am also perplexed.

For several months every evening meal was spent with him - and now that he finally has me - _forever,_ I think sadly - is he done with these games? I'm still smarting from our recent encounters and am not eager to have a repeat performance. I'll accept the silence and his aloofness gladly.

I don't study much in the archives, though I do look for our officiator. He is nowhere in sight. I plop down with the first book I find, favoring it over the holograms. A book requires more concentration; perhaps this will take my mind off of everything. I squish into a hard chair, trying to fit the layers of my dress between the armrests. It's not ideal but it will do. I open the book - _The Battle of Naboo -_ and settle in. My plan works; I spend the next several hours lost in the tactics and intensity of the battle against the Trade Federation, so many years ago.

* * *

I'm startled out of my trance when a trooper clears his throat, informing me that I am to return to my rooms. I nod, set the book down gingerly, promising to return to it eventually and follow the trooper. I am almost giddy with relief. I'm returning to my own rooms - perhaps Kylo is truly giving me time to adjust.

I look around as I realize that we have taken far more turns than I was anticipating; the archives are not far from my rooms. Are we taking a back way? Are they so worried about me trying to escape that they are walking in circles to prevent me from knowing exactly where we are? Again, have they _seen_ this dress? I'm going exactly nowhere in it.

Eventually our steps slow and I know why I didn't recognize where we were going - because I've only seen this door twice, both times within minutes of each other, when the corridors were dark and I was riddled with exhaustion.

"Lady Ren," says a trooper, pressing the alarm to Kylo's door, notifying him that I am outside. "Your rooms."

IV. [Poe]

A slew of curses that would make a bounty hunter blush leave my mouth as the medics fit a robotic hand to my wrist. I would rather crash on Jakku again than go through this - at least I was unconscious on Jakku.

"You should be grateful we were able to get you one so quickly," Leia says as she helps hold me down, brushes my hair back as if I'm six years old again.

"Well I wouldn't need one if _Lord Ren_ could learn to just control his temper!" I snap without thinking, and hate myself as I see the light fade, just a little, from Leia's eyes. I know Kylo - Ben, as she still calls him - is her only family left. I know how she holds to hope of him like a lifeline.

A wasted effort.

"He needs our help, more than ever," Leia whispers so only I can hear. She doesn't look at me. "Don't worry, I have a plan."

I don't inquire as to what that could be; the final steps of this painful process are almost complete and I am nearly blue in the face holding back my screams.

V. [Rey]

The door slides open and I walk straight to the interior sitting room, where I my droid bustling about, straightening the furniture and setting a bouquet of flowers on the table. It turns when I enter.

"Lady Ren," The slightly robotic tone seems to make the title sound more permanent. I shiver. "Your bed has been turned down, your nightclothes are laid out in your personal suite, whenever you may require them. If you do not need any more assistance, I will exit."

My eyebrow raises, confused. "But you always help me undress for the evening," I say.

"Yes. However," The droid pauses and I realize the stupidity of my question just before the droid answers it, giving me ample opportunity to feel like an idiot twice. "It is expected that your husband will help you with that this evening."

"Right," I squeak, mortified. "Thank you." It leaves and I try to slow my breathing.

I raise a hand to my forehead, my heart pounding as to what the idea and...expectations of tonight bring. When I made that blasted bargain, the thought of consummating a marriage never occurred to me. I'd never become physically intimate with anyone - there either wasn't a chance, as on Jakku, or there wasn't time, as during those early days with the Resistance. Then I was training to be a Jedi, and any fate of that sort was swept away, as impossible as the sands of Jakku becoming oceans.

My stomach rolls at what might be coming. That one simple kiss with Kylo wrecked me. I'm still not certain of my own emotions; I am still battling with remorse and disgust at my attraction to someone who has committed such evil.

But his lips.

I shake myself out of the memories on Naboo, willing myself to stay mentally focused. _He nearly killed Poe!_ I remind myself sternly. I need to have this decision made before I see him. Otherwise I will fall at his feet.

And I cannot let that happen.

I'm still furious with him; still confused. No amount of attraction can undo what he has done.

I hear the sound of a throat clearing across the room. I whip around as quickly as I am able in this forsaken gown. Involuntarily, a violent tremor races down my spine.

Kylo Ren stands just in the doorway, arms crossed, leaning against the frame, still wearing his boots but not his mask or gloves. His hair is slightly damp, as if he just washed it. His eyes rove over my dress with approval and I am thankful for all it covers.

"Do you like the flowers?"

I stare at him blankly.

He gives me a knowing smile, stepping into the room and gesturing to the vase of colorful blossoms on the table. "Not really to my taste," he muses, before softening his voice. "But I thought you might enjoy them. These are your living quarters too, now."

"Yes," I reply, keeping my eyes fixed on the petals. "They're lovely."

"You're lovely."

I press my lips together; even I, in my years of near-solitude, recognize a cliche when I hear one. He's leading me deeper into his games. I lift my eyes to his face, but he too is looking at the vase. An awkward beat passes, neither of us attempting to fill it. I curse the silence; it's making it that much easier for Kylo to hear the nervous pounding of my heart, the ragged gasps of breath I'm taking.

 _I'm not ready._

I switch subjects with lightning speed.

"Where have you been all day?"

"Here and there," he retorts. "The Supreme Leader will require my assistance on another mission in a few weeks."

"Oh," I reply, barely hearing him, nervously fiddling with the skirt of my gown.

His eyes eventually find mine and his voice becomes honey. "Come here," he says softly.

I panic, freeze in place.

He smirks, "Do I have to use a mind trick to make you come closer? What a terrible way to begin a marriage." I still don't move, immune to his attempts at humor.

"Very well," he sighs. "I suppose you can have this one small victory." He comes toward me, and I'm still frozen, my feet becoming roots that seem to burrow me further into the tile.

His hands circle my waist, his nose tickling mine. "I'm sorry this has been a...less than idyllic wedding day," he whispers. "I'll make it up to you. Starting now."

His lips meet mine, this time without asking. I feel the panic rise up again and turn my head away, That doesn't discourage him, as his lips find my neck and trail kisses downward. He pauses his kisses as his hands move into my hair, removing the headpiece with surprising deftness. His mouth covers mine again and I gasp in surprise; he doesn't waste the opportunity and slips his tongue past my lips, deepening the kiss. Without realizing it I have pressed myself against him, my body moving much more quickly than my mind.

His hand moves from my hair to the back of my gown, finding the zipper and tugging it down and I feel like this is happening too fast, too fast and I'm standing between two paths, between sun and moon, sand and snow, dark and light and I can't choose and I can't even think when he's this close and I'm supposed to hate him but I can't when he's kissing me and now I -

My rapid fire thoughts break through the haze of his kisses and I ball my fists, pushing away from him, hard. His face falls for just a moment before returning to impassive. I smart as I realize his breathing is completely normal and I am gulping breaths like a winded Tauntaun.

Before I can utter a word he is pulling me gently to him, burying his face in the curve of my bare shoulder, planting kisses and whispering of how long he's waited for me.

I grasp his shoulders, attempting to pull him away. "Please," my voice comes out in a hoarse whisper. "Please Kylo, I can't...I'm not...I can't do this."

I feel him sag against me, hear his groan of frustration. He pulls his head up, his face so close to mine I can count the shades of earth in his dark eyes. "I love you," he says quietly.

My heart shatters.

I swallow, trusting my own instinct. "If you really love me, as you say you do, you'll give me time. To adjust."

There is an unbearable pause as he looks deeply into my eyes. I see flickers of a hundred different emotions before he settles on concession.

"Very well."

I'm shocked at his sudden relent. I give one request, and he agrees? No arguing, no pleading?

"I've waited for you for four years, Rey," he says, answering my thoughts. "I can wait a little longer. Here, you have your own suite. Let me show you to it."

He takes me to the furthest door, on the far end of the wall. He presses in a code, saying it aloud for my benefit. "I will never enter this room unless I have permission from you," he says quietly. "I think I'm safe in assuming you want to be alone tonight."

He stops, turns back.

"And just so we're clear, Rey," he says softly. "My room has an open invitation."

VI. [Poe]

I flex my new hand, moving the fingers one by one, try zipping up my jacket, holding a glass, firing a blaster. It seems to work just fine. And steel is much stronger than flesh. It will make punching Kylo in the face that much more satisfying.

"The Order knows we're recruiting in the Outer Rim," Finn says wearily, calling my attention back to the conversation at hand. "And they still have Rey."

He says this as gently as he can, assuring me there is no blame, but I can't stop the guilt that eats at me like vultures to a carcass. The Resistance lost their spy and Rey's rescuer in the course of one night. _Well, no, not every spy_ , I remember. There's still one left. Hopefully they're faring better than I did.

"I have a plan in place. A decoy, if you will," says Leia. "I will lure them to a specified location, make them believe that is our true base."

"We've already tried that," someone pipes up. Someone new; I don't recognize her - the length of my absence hits me again and I look around. I hardly know any of these people. "They knew it was a decoy. Why would they fall for the same trick twice?"

I bristle at her tone toward Leia, prepared to let this newcomer know her place, but Leia beats me to it in a much more diplomatic way.

"Forgive me, but I've been planning military tactics longer than you've been alive," she states calmly. "But since you're probably not the only one wondering...we planted that decoy purposefully, let them discover our plan quickly. Doing so was a success; we were able to convince the Order that we were less prepared than they thought. By planting a second decoy, they are sure to assume that is the real base - because of their arrogance, they will assume that we are not capable of deception twice. They will send their key forces and leaders, which will leave them vulnerable."

"And then what?" Finn asks. My heart twists as I see the cut on his lip, the bruises under his eye. What has he been through these last few months? "We try an ambush? It will never work, their forces would annihilate us."

"No," says Leia. "We can't show them the extent of our fighters. Our only strength right now is that they underestimate our numbers. Let them continue to do so. We will win this battle with a deception."

"Of what kind?" I ask, my heart sinking. I know where this is going.

Leia only offers a sad smile. "Leave that to me."

She announces the end of the meeting, and the room clears out until only a few pockets of people remain, whispering urgently in twos and threes. I stand still until Finn comes to find me, offers me a hug. "It's good to see you brother," he says tiredly. "Almost all in one piece."

"He's going to marry her."

A sigh from Finn. "Yeah, I know. Leia told me."

"It was her idea."

"Rey has always been loyal," Finn replies. "In her mind she was trading her life for yours. That's how she operates."

I clench my teeth, angry at myself all over again. I was so close to getting her out of there!

"We have to go after them, as soon as possible."

"I agree...though I have to admit my own reasons for going are not just about Rey," He touches the spot on his shoulder, his burn from Kylo in the forest on Star Killer. "I've got a fight to pick with Ren."

"Yeah?" I reply, flexing my new hand. "Well, get in line."

* * *

AN: I'm still not totally happy with this chapter - I've reworked it many times and will probably continue to do so. Rey and Kylo are both very conflicted and I'm not sure I portrayed that...I will try to improve it. Let me know what you think!


	11. Chapter 11

AN: Again, thank you for all the wonderful reviews! I live for them and they help keep me motivated. Enjoy the new chapter!

Chapter 11

I. [Rey]

Two months pass.

For the most part we keep busy; he becomes intensely occupied with the upcoming mission and I...well, I simply bide my time, trying to keep away from old memories that would wound me to my core.

We keep to our separate rooms, though most of our meals are spent together. I've begun training again, but now I have personal sessions with Radyne, a female instructor. Occasionally I see Patch in the hallways but he only offers a small smile. Once, just a week after my wedding, when I was granted the rare privilege of traveling alone, I pulled him into a closet and demanded that he tell me if Kylo had hurt him; relief swept over me as he assured me that my husband had left him completely alone. Perhaps he could see reason.

I attempted to make more conversation, but he ducked out, muttering that he was late to a training session.

And so I lost my only friend on the ship.

I search for news of the Resistance; probing Kylo at dinner or breakfast, or interrogating my guards. Once I stop General Hux in the corridor, asking as casually as I can if he had any updates. He only offers a sneer before walking quickly away.

Despite his intense schedule, Kylo makes time for me. He shows me to the bridge; lets me accompany him to some tactical meetings, though I offer no opinions of my own. Most evenings we spend together in the sitting room, me curled on the sofa with a book, him fiddling with a droid or work for the Order. We say our goodnights before retreating to our separate rooms.

But some nights, we spend the hours sitting close, or perhaps even curled in each other's arms, talking of everything and nothing. Some nights these conversations lead to kisses, and kisses... _almost_ lead to more.

But I always stop it, still scared to cross that line.

Over the hours, days, and weeks, I see him uninhibited; see a side to him that even I, through these months, have only ever glimpsed. I see him without the mask, without the obligation to be something he isn't. I see the good in him, as he presents me with a small potted plant simply because he thought I would enjoy tending to it; I see the light in his eyes as he laughs at something silly I say. I see him fighting his own feelings; putting my wants before his own as I ask him to stop his advances when they become too much for me - and he always does.

I walk with him to the medical wing, where the injured and near-death soldiers lay, sleeping. He only visits late at night, when he's sure no one will see him. I see his brow furrow as he worries over his men, their injuries. I can see him battle with the idea that he shouldn't care about them, but he does. He tells me of his own regret at letting Finn go, when he knew he would defect but did nothing to stop him. I only see a man who saw the same struggle between dark and light in someone else, and let him to have the chance to decide for himself.

I see him return from his meetings with Leader Snoke - someone I hope always to avoid, though I'm sure I won't ever be so lucky - with tired eyes, a sag in his shoulders. It's killing him.

I see a man who wants so desperately to be something he's not.

And I see my own fears, begin to wonder if _I'm_ trying to be something I'm not. Perhaps this was always meant to be - what else could explain my intense, magnetic attraction to him? On those nights when we get carried away, only minutes from becoming one, I wonder if I shouldn't stop it. I know I am playing into my own fears - of the unknown, of bringing a child into this mess, of being loyal to the Order and not the Resistance. But I cannot deny how my own feelings have changed over these last few months, as he's opened himself to me. The longer I'm with him, the more intense our attraction becomes. The more I know of the true man behind the mask, I know I cannot keep lying to myself.

Most nights, when I ask him to stop, I wish I don't.

Most nights, I debate sneaking into his room.

Every night, I regret falling asleep alone.

* * *

The night it happens, I have a strange dream.

A stone room, scattered with toys. A small boy, picking his way through the mess, his dark curls bouncing as he giggles, turns around, reaches for someone. My eyes flash, seeing a man standing in front of me, but the light is so blinding I cannot get a good look at his face.

I awake in my own room on the destroyer, soaked in sweat, my hair plastered to my neck and shoulders. My sheets have tangled in a heap on the floor; I must have kicked them off during my restless sleep. I gaze around the room, searching for the little boy, but he is nowhere to be seen.

I stand, undress, nearly sprinting for the shower. The sweat feels as though it is suffocating me. I relax in the warm water, massaging sore muscles, breathing in the humid air - still such a luxury to me.

Minutes later, I exit, rifling through my wardrobe for another nightdress. The first one I find is much too frilly - a pale pink that hits my mid-thigh, leaving barely more of me covered than the bathing suit, but the exhaustion is creeping on me and I don't want to spend longer searching for something to sleep in than is necessary.

I dress quickly, leaving my hair to dry unattended, not even bothering to run my fingers through it. I sink onto the bed, still sitting, and let my head drop in my hands. My heart still pounds haphazardly, and it does not escape me who those black curls remind me of.

Here, in the middle of the night, I let my own shields down, force myself to be honest.

This is what I want.

And I'm sure of it.

* * *

I'm shaking from head to toe, but I force myself to stand, to take the many steps to the door. I enter the sitting room, doing a quick scan but he's nowhere to be seen. No surprise at this time of night - surely he's asleep.

With a deep breath and a shaky memory of an open invitation, I enter the code to his door - given to me several months ago which I have debated using almost nightly. There is a slight hiss as the door slides open, and I hesitate for only the smallest moments before stepping foot in his room.

It is nearly identical to mine, a masculine companion with darker colors. His bed, covered in charcoal gray sheets, is much larger, I realize with a gulp. I hear the door slide shut behind me and take another step forward.

Seventeen steps and I am at the foot of his bed. He must hear me, because his eyes slowly blink, once, twice, before he sits up, reaching for his lightsaber, asking me what's the matter.

I feel foolish.

"Nothing," I mumble, looking only at the tile floor as he calms down, replaces his lightsaber on the nightstand. I feel his heat as he comes to stand beside me. "I just...wanted to see you."

"In the middle of the night?" He muses. I know his eyes are on me, can feel his breath on my cheek, but still, in my naive embarrassment, refuse to look at him.

There is a pause, a beat, a click.

"Rey," he murmurs, "Are you sure this is what you want?"

Finally, I turn to him. See the light in his eyes, the concern for me. I cannot deny the warmth, the hum it brings to my chest.

The feeling of feeling complete.

I answer with an urgent kiss, wrapping my arms around him. He responds even more urgently than I, tangling his arms around me, breathing unevenly.

He stops, pulls away for just a moment, the smallest of smiles forming on the uneven planes of his face.

"What is it?" I ask, breathless.

"I never told you my secret," he whispers, pulling me closer. "From that day on Naboo."

My mind is pulling a thousand different directions, so it takes me a moment to place his reference. The bet we made about swimming to the island...yes, I remember now asking for one of his secrets. I'm surprised he remembered.

"And?" I request, staring up at him, seeking the warmth from not only his arms but also his eyes. "Are you going to tell me now?

"It seems the right time," he smiles, and a warmth settles over my chest as he leans in, his breath tickling my ear. "I've wanted you since the moment I saw you."

I feel a pull in my stomach and a smile form on my face.

"Oh, Kylo," I sigh, grinning. "That's no secret at all."

The rest of the night is nothing short of perfection.

II. [Kylo]

I prowl through my ship, tense with unease. Troopers skitter out of my way, though I hardly pay them any notice.

General Hux and most of our forces are following behind; I chose to lead this mission to the base. My knights have joined me, though we barely interact. They have become less of a priority over the last several months.

I'm loathe to go on this mission anyway, already missing Rey - _my wife,_ I remember with a satisfied humming in my chest. I cannot stop myself from reliving that first night, only three weeks ago, when she came to my room. Or the many nights after. I feel my blood race, feel my own shortness of breath as I relive the memories. The ache from being separated from her, especially after….recent developments...is horrendous. I debated bringing her with me. But this mission is far too dangerous.

People will die.

"How long until we enter the atmosphere?" I ask the pilot.

"Twenty minutes, sir," he responds, "Maybe twenty-five."

I inwardly feel relieved; we've already been traveling for two days, toward the Outer Rim. I'm anxious to get off this ship, to destroy the Resistance permanently, and return to Rey. To have all of this behind us.

I remember my latest meeting with Snoke, discussing the logistics of this attack. We are certain this is the true base; their "decoy" was feeble and I saw through it immediately. I was even a little surprised that my mother, who has dedicated her entire life to negotiating wars, would flounder so greatly. Perhaps the Resistance is even worse off than we originally thought.

A part of me dreads seeing her; I haven't laid eyes on her since I was fifteen, just before I led the attack on Luke and his padawans. Before I swore my loyalty to my grandfather, to Snoke, to the only truly working system in the galaxy - the First Order. The Republic - and now the Resistance - are, no, _were,_ nothing more than a crowd of sniveling, narcissistic imbeciles determined to have their voices heard rather than accomplish anything worthwhile. The First Order is working to correct that.

I feel for my lightsaber as the ship begins its descent. With a slight thud we land and the bridge drops slowly to the ground. The air blasts me through the mask; it is arid and blisteringly hot. The landscape matches; the earth is hard-packed, a dull shade of brown. A few trees and scrubby plants dot the landscape; I scan my eyes and see flat bluffs in the distance. A small muddy stream, no more than six inches deep, runs about fifty feet away; most of the vegetation grows along its shores. Everywhere I look there are boulders of varying sizes and hues - good places for hiding. A small rodent scuttles from one rock to another, and I smile.

This planet will be the deathbed of the Resistance.

They have dug their own graves.

III. [Poe]

"You're not going by yourself," I say through gritted teeth. My patience is already stretched thin over the last two and a half months as I am stuck here, rotting in the Resistance base while Rey is still in enemy territory. Leia is about to crush what little diplomacy I have left.

There is the smallest flicker of her eyelids, as if she wants to roll her eyes but courtesy won't let her.

"Poe," she begins. "I appreciate your concern. But I will not let anyone else risk their life on this mission, not even you."

"But - " I explode, furious with her noble intentions; she is walking into a deathtrap and refuses to have any backup!

"No," Leia cuts me off. "This is the only way I can think of to save him. He has to see me, and only me. If he saw _you_ , Poe, he would only feel anger, and hatred. He would give in completely to the dark side. I can't let that happen."

I have to stop myself from shaking, from wanting to scream and rip my hair out. She saw me when I landed, helped me off the ship because I couldn't do it alone with one hand. She held me, stroked my hair as they replaced my limb with a robotic one. She heard me screaming in complete agony from the pain of my hand and losing Rey. She knows exactly who caused this.

But she's too blind to see it.

"Don't you understand," I nearly hiss, "That he already has given in completely to the dark side? Why do you refuse to accept that?"

"No!" She shouts, and even I, nearly a foot taller than her, cower at the emotion in her voice. "There is good in him, there is still light. He's searching for it. And I will do whatever I have to for him to find it."

"Even if it means risking your own life?"

She sighs. "I'll be fine."

I hold my tongue, not trusting myself to speak.

"The planet I've led them to isn't far from here. I'll be back within a few days," she says finally. "I need you and Finn to hold down the base until then."

"What if you don't come back?"

She tenses, waits several minutes before answering.

"I'll come back."

IV. [Kylo]

"Spread out. Search everything."

The troopers and knights do as I instruct, moving silently. I walk north, away from the ship, toward the bluffs. About a half mile in, I come upon a gorge, which extends sharply downward so far that I cannot see the bottom; it's just an empty abyss. Through my mask I see crude cuts in the rock, with swinging bridges connecting them. They appear to be openings of some sort that have been cut by hand.

So this is where the rats have built their nest.

I turn back, motion toward the troopers to and my knights to join me. I point to the holes in the rock, the openings to their base. I send two troopers back to the ship, to notify Hux and the others of the location of the Resistance. I turn toward my knights, forming a plan for climbing down to the entrances when I see the smallest motion out of the corner of my eye.

There, standing on the opposite side of the gorge, is my mother.

I can't believe how different she looks; my breath catches at her grey hair, the lines that have formed on her face. But her small smile is the same; the steel in her dark eyes still unwavering.

She stands alone; there are no fighters or guards with her. I halt my knights and the troopers who have drawn their weapons, ordering them to stand down.

"Hello, Ben," she calls to me. It is silent, not even the slightest hint of a breeze or the call of a bird. Though we are separated by the gorge, I hear her perfectly. "I've missed you."

Before I realize what I'm doing, I remove my mask, let it fall down next to me. I'm gripping the lightsaber tightly in my right hand as if it were a lifeline.

"I hear congratulations are in order," she says, just a hint of sadness in her voice. "I hope you've been kind to her."

"Where are the others?" I yell, glancing down at the caves dug into the rock below.

"There are none," she says softly. "I'm the only Resistance fighter here."

There is a cry of outrage from the troopers behind me.

"Silence!" I roar, turning back to them. "I will handle this."

I turn back to my mother, see her small frame stand with such confidence. She takes a few halting steps toward me, closer to the edge of the cliff, closer to the abyss.

"These caves have been abandoned for years," she explains. "But they make a good decoy."

"You're lying," I hiss.

"No, Ben," she says tiredly. "I've never lied to you."

My heart twists involuntarily at the truth of her words. I run through my old diatribes in my mind as quickly as I can; how she abandoned me, always put her work first, sent me to train with Luke as quickly as she could. But seeing her here, the first time in almost twenty years, silences those thoughts. I close my eyes, calling for the Force, for help from my grandfather. I realize now the task that Snoke expects from me; how to truly complete my training.

Kill both of my parents.

I taste blood as I realize that I cannot - I will not - do it.

Just at that moment, a trooper approaches, tells me that Hux's ship has received word of the base and will launch a missile in minutes. My mind whirs. All the openings are on the other side of the gorge; they will destroy everything beyond this canyon. My mother will be killed if she doesn't move _now._

I feel an intense panic, turning toward the knights and troopers, ordering them back to the ship. They race for the safety of distance, knowing I will follow in a moment.

"There is a missile coming," I quickly say. "You have to get out of here before it hits."

She shakes her head. "No," she replies. "I will not die a coward."

"You always cherished your pride," I seethe. "But this is not the time for that, mother! Don't you understand I'm trying to save you? Get out of here before it kills you!"

"I won't," she says.

I turn toward my mother, calling to her, pleading with her.

She takes another step closer to the edge. I can see the light settle in her eyes, see her face settle into a small smile. "You've become so handsome," she says quietly.

My heart stops as I realize she's not planning to move. She is going to be killed. I extend a hand, planning to carry her to this side and to safety using the Force, but she blocks me, keeping close to the edge.

She only offers a small smile as we both hear something whiz in the clouds above. "You've made your choice. Sided with the dark. And now you must reap your consequences. I hope you know how much your father and I always loved you."

I scream in frustration, begging her to move, to get to safety. "You have only seconds! Please, mother, _please_ move, for me! I don't want to see you die!"

The missile breaks through the clouds, heading for the ground just a half mile behind her. She will be lost in the impact. I feel my heart race, then stop altogether, in the seconds before it hits.

"Perhaps this is what will save you, son."

The missile implodes and I watch with horror as she slips of the edge, falling into the abyss below. I fall to the ground, reaching for her, screaming for her, but I know it is no use.

She is gone.

V. [Rey]

I'm still halfway in dreamland when I hear the door open, footsteps coming toward me, and a loud thunk which must be his helmet. I feel him hovering next to the bed, waiting. Even in my haze I know something isn't right. He told me he would never enter this room unless I told him it was all right, and even with the new developments in our relationship, I've always gone to him - he's never set foot in this room in the months we've been married.

"May I join you?" his voice breaks.

I've never, in the years I've known him, heard his voice with that sort of emotion in it. What could have happened?

I lift the blankets, make room for him. He crawls into bed, and in the darkness I can see that he hasn't bothered to remove his cape, belt, or boots. Just his mask.

I don't know what I'm expecting, some sort of physical advance, I suppose. But he tries nothing. In one breath he collapses next to me; his head buried into my shoulder. I feel a wetness on my shirt, which can only be...tears?

I close my eyes, focus on his thoughts, delve into his mind as painlessly as possible. The mission - entering the atmosphere, finding his mother - they argue - and she -

No. NO.

Leia is gone.

I see him scream at her, tell her to move, to get out while she still can. She refuses, standing her ground. Fearless.

" _Perhaps this is what will save you, son."_

A heart-wrenching moment when he realizes that there is nothing he can do. And then, in one instant, she is gone.

My own eyes fill with tears as Kylo continues to cling to me, reliving those moments over and over again. I sense him for what he truly is. He is not a monster, no.

He is simply a scared, lost little boy, crying out for his mother.

And she cannot answer.

* * *

AN: Okay before anyone sends me hate mail, things are not always as they seem. :) We've still got a way to go before this story is over!


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